Sinful Seduction
by CourtneyHowlett
Summary: When Isabella Swan is captured from her home during a barbarian raid, her life changes forever. She's given as a slave-gift to the barbarian king to do as he pleases with her. She refuses him at first, but can the charming young king seduce her into his bed? Will her nobleman lover back home come to rescue her, or will Isabella fall for the king's sinful seduction? (AU/AH, J/B)
1. Barbaric

Sinful Seduction

**Summary:** When Isabella Swan is captured from her home during a barbarian raid, her life changes forever. She's given as a slave-gift to the barbarian king to do as he pleases with her. She refuses him at first, but can the charming young king seduce her into his bed? Will her nobleman lover back home come to rescue her?

**Author's Note:** Yeah, so if you're here from Sunshine's last chapter, welcome! If you're new, welcome! I love all readers, and I'm really happy that you guys are giving this a chance. I'm excited about this one. I've got a good, action and sex filled plot written down, so I'm pretty sure that I could finish this one like I finished Sunshine. You guys help me with that—because you all rock! Also, you'll notice some pretty weird names. The names of those men will be revealed later, and yes, they are the traditional pack members. This is an all-human story, with an alternate universe setting and plot. Go Twilight! And for the language, I used Hausa language and translated it off of Google Translate (don't ask me why I chose Hausa lol). I'll add a dictionary at the bottom so you don't have to look anything up in Hausa! Yup… so enjoy my crazy thoughts (:

**Ratings: **This story is rated M for profanity, language, violence, and sex! Take caution readers 18 and under!

**Disclaimer: **Stephenie Meyers owns this…and thus sadly I shall never be able to say that I own these beautiful characters.

**Chapter One: **_Barbaric_

"The barbarians are coming!"

At that moment, my heart stops. I look up from where I am sitting next to the boudoir in the manor to the oval shaped window. _No, _I think to myself. _This can't be happening._

The barbarians rarely ever raided the northwestern villages, but when they did, they left the streets bloodied and the houses bare. And if they were feeling especially evil, they'd even take a maiden back to their king as a gift.

I am dressed in a beautiful red silk dress, ready to go to the town square to meet with the man that I'd been courting for about a month. Rumor had said that Sir Edward was going to ask for my hand in marriage. And of course, I was to accept his offer. Edward is the wealthiest noble in the village with the most to offer me.

He'd told me his stories of how he and his men would ride out to conquer the barbarians and kill their king to capture the Silvertongue and rid the kingdom of any future barbarian attacks. I had asked him what the Silvertongue was on our ride to the meadows, the ones that he took me on our first time alone together.

"_A Silvertongue is an object that knows all the world's languages, whether they be secret, or well known,"_ Edward had said to me. _"The Silvertongue will help us to decipher the book of Azazel. Anyone who can decipher the book of Azazel is said to bathe in riches and achieve world domination with his men. I shall marry you, Isabella, and then we shall rule the world as the greatest King and Queen anyone has ever known."_

"My lady!" the maidservant calls. "We must evacuate out the back door immediately! Your father has been killed and your mother captured."

My face goes pale and I can feel the knot in my stomach tighten. "Killed…? Captured?" Before I can properly respond, the sound of battle cries and splintering wood downstairs echoes out and breaks me from my stunned trance.

Angelina, my maid, grabs my hand and tugs me down the hallway. I struggle to keep up with having the burden of a heavy silk dress, tripping over my skirts every so often as I am being yanked hurriedly down the stairs.

A cry in the distance is followed by the sound of a gruesome squishing sound of a barbarian spear going through the flesh of an innocent villager. At the bottom of the steps lays my other handmaiden, surrounded by a pool of blood with a knife in her stomach.

Angelina sobs loudly, but I quickly hush her, pushing her out the back door. The sound of crashing can be heard as barbarians are seen invading my kitchens and smashing my mother's prized fine china.

It's ridiculously hot on this particular summer month, the smell of death and blood lingering in the sticky air. It's complete chaos out in the roads. The square is littered with dead bodies, screaming women and children, and debris from wrecked bazaars and merchant stands.

I absently wonder where Edward is, and if he's safe. I wonder if my father died quickly and painlessly, and if my mother is still alive and well. "My lady, please!" Angelina tugs on my pale white hand, pulling me farther into the forest to escape the hoard of barbarians that ambushes my quiet little village of Forks.

Barbarians usually dressed in animal skins and wore the bones of humans in bracelets or necklaces. They grew their hair out long and ran with wolves, fighting on foot instead of horseback, and with khopesh swords and daggers instead of iron swords.

As Angelina pulls me deeper into the depths of the lush green forest, I can see life as I knew it slowly fading away before my reluctant eyes. Tears form where tears weren't welcome and I soon find myself crying like a child. It's all happening so fast; my mother is captured, my father is dead, my house is wrecked and my riches are gone. It is slap in the face that was gifted from reality, and I am only a tiny speck on the face of the earth, running away into the forbidden wilderness with my lowly maidservant as my only companion left.

I choke on my tears. Angelina turns around to make sure that I didn't hurt myself. I hadn't hurt myself on the outside, but I'm hurting a lot on the inside.

Wolves howling in the background distract me from my woe for a split second, causing me to stumble over a prominent root protruding from the ground. I fall, pulling my maidservant down with me.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Angelina's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. My heart's beating faster than it ever beat before, and I can hear the sound of twigs cracking under rough, bare feet nearing us.

"Shh," I whisper, wiping at my tears with a shaky hand. "I can hear them. They're close—you know what they do when they find women hiding."

The maid's eyes widen. "I feel as if I am too afraid to ask," Angelina whimpered.

Hidden in the brush, I peer through the leaves to look at my surroundings. The sound of barking wolves can still be heard, but the footsteps have gone deeper into the forest than we have. "They take them as sex slaves. I thought you knew."

A crunch of a twig and the swift rustling of leaves makes Angelina yelp and shake uncontrollably. "We can't be captured, my lady. We must run!"

"No!" I growl, and pull her back to the ground as she leans back on her haunches, readying to dart out into the forest. "We cannot risk that. We cannot outrun the barbarians, so I say that our best chance of survival and escape are to sit and wait them out. Wait 'till they clear the area."

Angelina groans. "I'm afraid," she whispered. "I don't want to be their slave."

I don't tell her about the other stories I'd heard about the barbarians, like how they would sell their slave to other men to bed after they grew tired of their own, how they would rape a slave if she did not submit willingly, and how sometimes barbarians would put their women on display in horrid public events.

I'm determined to get us out alive and free, and I'm determined to find Edward again. I want to see his red-brown hair, bright green eyes and sunny smile. I want to hear him laugh and feel his rose-petal lips on my skin when he kisses my hand politely.

"_Three Horses_!" A voice calls in the distance. They speak in a language that I do not understand. Angelina and I crouch back into the leaves more, hiding our bodies from barbarian eyes.

"Paleface trinket," one slurs, holding up a silver necklace. I refrain myself from gasping, my hand flying to my neck where my mother's necklace should have been. It must have come off when I fell, and now it was going to be stolen by those beasts.

"Drinks of Waterfall," the other says. "Paleface…_close."_

The bone chains on their necks, arms and feet jingle as they crouch closer to where we hide. I bite my lip and I see Angelina panicking, muttering silent prayers with her eyes glued firmly shut.

I decide to pray as well, bowing my head and letting my curtain of chestnut hair cover my face. I had thought that they'd gone, but I'm terribly wrong. A curious hand feels around through the brush where we are hiding.

I stay as still as possible to try and avoid contact with the rough hand and cease my noise, hopelessly thinking that perhaps they'd leave if they didn't hear or feel anything. But I'm wrong again.

Angelina shrieks like a pig being butchered to death when the rough hand grabs a fistful of her black hair and tugs her up by the soft strands. The barbarians laugh and as the one called Drinks of Waterfall pushes my maid to the other one named Three Horses. Three Horses grabs Angelina and ties her flailing hands with rope as Drinks of Waterfall holds her arms down.

My maidservant is gagged and slung over Three Horses' shoulder. I slink down into the brush as Drinks of Waterfall nears again. He sees me. I know he sees me. He reaches down, winding his fingers into my soft chestnut locks of hair, yanking so harshly that I feel my scalp begin to bleed.

I squeal in pain, grasping at the barbarian's hands. Three Horses looks back and grins, muttering something to his colleague. It was probably praise and approval for my capture.

I put up a fight as Drinks of Waterfall tries to tie my hands with leather strips of rope. The barbarian growls in frustration when I hit him hard in the stomach, then laughs at me when I whimper in pain from the wrist-ropes being too tight.

"Let us go!" I hiss at him through my teeth. I kick at Drinks of Waterfall as he slings me over his broad, copper toned shoulder. He doesn't listen to me—but what do I expect? He's a filthy barbarian. And barbarians show no mercy to palefaces.

I struggle as he carries me through the woods like I'm a mere sack of flour, ignoring the profanities I spew from my mouth, ignoring the cries, and ignoring the pleas.

"You're an animal!" I scream, kicking my feet hard against his chest. Drinks of Waterfall growls viciously, raising his hand to my bottom and smacking it down hard on the silk-covered skin.

I yelp out in shock and anger. I struggle even harder. "You beast!" I scream. "You'll rot in Hell for this!" He whips me down from his shoulder and carries me baby style in one arm as he fishes a rag out of his leather satchel he carries on his shoulder.

The rag is brown, but it has a strange white substance on it. The barbarian stuffs it inside of my mouth against my will. I manage to bite his finger as he does so; and it draws blood. But the white substance on the rag was making me feel drowsy and like I was full of jelly and no bones. My eyes fluttered shut as the barbarian cussed and wiped his bleeding finger on my beautiful red silk dress.

I hate him…I hate him…

0o0o0o0o

When I awaken, the smell of cooking meat holds my interest. I lift my head off of the warm shoulder that I'd been slobbering all over and my eyes flicker open. Music was playing, meat was cooking, and women dressed in animal skins were weaving baskets and tending to little naked babies running wild all over the ground.

I wrap my arms around my carrier as my eyes slip shut again. It's hard to keep them open and I still feel so weak. I don't know where I am, and I don't remember much of where I was before I went to sleep.

My eyes flutter open and really look at my surroundings. Stone buildings, tents, and strange wooden houses attract my attention. I see the same women weaving a basket while her naked, copper-skinned baby boy ran naked around the fire, in which another woman roasted meat over.

"Angelina," I mumble, finally coming to. I look up, frightened. Where am I? The last I remember was the forest, hiding from the barbarians.

I look at the body that is carrying me. The broad copper shoulders, long black hair weaved into a fuzzy braid that reached his hips. I look at the side of his serene features. It's Drinks of Waterfall.

I'm horrified instantly, and begin to struggle as I see Three Horses carrying a passed out Angelina on his shoulders. "No fight," Drinks of Waterfall hisses at me. "Almost there."

My heart pounds inside of my chest. There's no use in struggling because I already know that I won't escape Drinks of Waterfall's arms; and even if I did, I'd quickly be caught. I was, after all, in a barbarian kingdom. I was surrounded and I was an outcast.

My tears had dried on my face and I resorted to whimpering helplessly in the arms of the monstrous man after I had no tears left in me to let out. I had sworn not to be caught; I could not be a sex slave.

I was promised to Edward, and that was something that I intended to keep in my heart and in my mind. We neared a huge stone castle-like building with a drawbridge over a freshwater river running through the barbarian kingdom.

Children swim in it, women wash clothes in it, and men drink and fish from it. He carries me right over it, following Three Horses with Angelina. The hall that we walk into is bustling with wealthier barbarians, ones with jewels strung around their necks instead of bones. They laughed, sitting at long rows of tables, stuffing fried legs of chickens into their greedy mouths and picking up food with their dirty hands.

As soon as the men saw Three Horses and Drinks of Waterfall, they begin to cheer loudly. "Woman! More woman!" one shouts and stands on the table, raising his cup of beer to the sky. I watch as the brown liquid sloshes in his cup and trickles down his arm.

Disgusting. Every single one of them.

I hear crying and look in front of me to see Angelina weeping on Three Horses' shoulders. She'd woken up and realized her surroundings. It made me yearn for her. I buried my face into Drinks of Waterfall's shoulder, trying to hide myself from the sexual comments and calls.

Three Horses lifts Angelina's skirts and bares her bottom to the crowd. She screams and kicks her legs, tears of embarrassment and shame clouding up her big brown eyes. "Stop! Stop it!"

Drinks of Waterfall laughs—hard—and follows Three Horses up the great stone staircase and into the very first room on the right. There are tons and tons of girls in the large room, some palefaced civilians and some of barbarian descent. He dumps me onto the floor next to a quivering girl in the corner and unties me. I scramble away from him instantly, cowering next to Angelina, who had also been untied by Three Horses.

They mumble something in their language to each other, and then they burst into laughter. The expression on Three Horses' face almost makes me want to laugh in disgust, but I'm afraid of what he'll do to me. The rest of the girls in the room look absolutely terrified.

The barbarians walk out of the room and lock the door behind them. I shoot Angelina a look. One of the civilian girls with honey-golden hair stands on her feet and walks over to my maid and I. "Another raid, I'm guessing," she frowns. "It's a shame. You seem like important ladies. Where were you from?"

I clear my throat and lick my dry lips. "Forks."

The blonde beauty gapes. "I didn't know they expanded over to the northwestern villages. I'm from a tiny northeastern village called York. They like attacking over there. There's a lot of wealth in those parts, and quite frankly, I don't know why I wasn't captured earlier. My father was one of the wealthiest men living in York."

She sits down in front of me, lifting her animal skin dress over her knees. She points at my dress. "You look like you met the same fate, huh?"

I frown, looking at down at myself. My red silk dress is no longer shiny and pretty; it was ripped and muddy. I groan. "Yeah. They led a raid on the worst day possible."

She extends her hand. "Hi, you two. I'm Rosalie."

I shake Rosalie's hand first. "Isabella."

Angelina shakes Rosalie's hand second. "I'm Isabella's maid, Angelina."

"Nice to meet you," the blonde says. "These are the ladies of the harem." She begins to point to some of the girls. "That's Alice, Jezebel, Jane, Sulpicia, Athenodora, Didyme, Emilia, Cecilia, and Clair. There's more, but they're probably out with men right now."

She says it so nonchalantly, like being with a barbarian man is a way of life.

"It's a way of life," Alice murmurs, sliding her frail body up beside Rosalie's. Alice has short, shoulder length brown hair and sharp features. "We've been here for two years. Sometimes being a harem girl isn't so bad…but in the beginning we all start out with bruises."

I gasp in horror. "They rape you?"

Rosalie shrugs. "More like take us when they feel like it. It's their custom to have women to bed when they feel the need—warriors get more than commoners, though. If a warrior wants to marry a harem girl, she cannot refuse."

My face reddens and I shake my head. "There's no way I'm sleeping around with a billion different beasts. I've promised myself to a man in my village!"

"He's probably dead," Alice comments softly. "Barbarians kill all the men they see in the villages."

A wave of nausea sweeps over me and I find myself doubled over and clutching my stomach. "I won't do it."

"Oh no!" Rosalie cries. "It's horribly insulting when a harem girl turns down a man. It's like a barbarian taboo. But don't worry—we'll do our best to teach you our customs. You've such a pretty face, and I'd hate to see it bruised."

The girls all scramble back to their dirty corners as the door opens and Three Horses stepped in with two different men. Drinks of Waterfall is absent that time.

They looked around the room. Three Horses points to me and then Angelina and the men nod in approval. Three Horses' hand gestures to the array of other women and the men go and pick their girls. The biggest, burliest one picks the smallest, frailest girl in the room. I think that Rosalie said her name was Emilia.

And the lankier, kinder looking one takes the most curvaceous woman, Didyme. Didyme is not a paleface like Rosalie and I are. The girls stand at the doorway with their men. Three Horses speaks to the men and glances over at me while speaking several times during his chat.

"Tiger Claw," Three Horses comments while staring at me, and the men laugh. "Dances With Wolves and Tiger Claw?"

The other two men nodded vigilantly. They seemed to be agreeing very strongly on something. Rosalie scoots towards me. "He's just named you Tiger Claw after your spirit. It seems that you injured Drinks of Waterfall pretty badly. He says you've got heart and spirit."

I smile at the fact that I hurt my barbarian captor but as they speak more about this other character, the dancing wolf guy, I become more intrigued. "Who's Dancing Wolf?" I ask her.

Rosalie snorts and her bright green eyes dart to where the men are standing and discussing. "You mean _Dances With Wolves_? That's the most important figure—you really ought to know him, Isabella."

I stare at her. "Alright. Well who is he?"

"The barbarian king," she whispers. "His name is Dances With Wolves. I think that Three Horses is thinking of…oh _my_."

"What?" I hiss. "What is it? What are they saying?"

Rosalie ignores me. "I've only ever been with Dances With Wolves once. He was beautiful, but he had a temper like a bull that was trapped in a red room."

"_Oh,"_ I whisper. "Rosalie, what do they speak of—"

"Rose," Three Horses croons. "Come. Ku zo nan. Wannan mutum yanã son ya kwanta ka dab da Emilia."

She gets up from her position and goes to the burlier man, clinging onto his arm and purring seductively at him. I am left sitting on the ground next to Angelina, completely flabbergasted. I do not know their language and the fact that Rosalie is so willing happens to disgust me.

Three Horses looks up at me and walks over to where I am sitting. Angelina cowers back; the barbarian sneers at her before grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. "You to come wit' me."

My eyes widen as he pulls me along. I dig my bare heel into the stone floor and yank us both to a stop. Three Horses looks annoyed. "You speak the Common Tongue?"

"Not enough time to sit chat, farar fata karuwa." Three Horses hisses at me "He waits for you. You be lucky to serve him."

My eyes widen and fire runs through my veins. I yank my arm out of his grasp. He turns around in surprise and anger. "I refuse! I will not go!"

The girls in the room all gasp and everything falls silent. Before I can register, Three Horses has hit me across the face. I double over in shock and pain, clutching at my lip, which has been split open. Blood drips down to my chin.

"You do not speak wit' me like 'dat," he booms. "You do not speak like 'dat wit' your master. You _kariya, _you be lucky I not your master!"

I'm so dizzy from the force of his blow that I weakly follow as he grabs my arm and pulls me down the hallway. They are dark, hot, and long. I cannot see where I am going. Torches illuminate the stony walls, allowing me to see the cobwebs and blood splatters on the brick.

This place is my worst nightmare, this place is my Hell.

There's a big room across the hall, guarded by two grand doors. From under the doors I can see the faint flickering light of a fire and hear the soft clank of wine glasses and jewels.

Three Horses knocks on the door and mumbles something else in their language to whoever was inside. A deep, smooth bass voice rumbles from inside. Three Horses pushes open the door and throws me on the ground.

I gasp, bringing my hands out before me to break my fall. A huge animal skin chair sits before the fire. I cannot see my new master's face. I can only see his giant, bronzed arm, tattooed and muscled.

Three Horses walks around front and begins to speak with his master. "I 'tought she might please you," he says. They laugh, and Three Horses shows the superior the bag of items they had collected from my house. Intricate china plates, pots, jewels, gold, and fine silver cups. I growl in disgust.

"Out wit' you," the one in the chair says, and Three Horses is already on his way out of the door. I am still laying on the floor. I have not the strength to scramble away, but my eyes and heart are still those of a tiger and they still rage with fire.

He stands up from his chair to his towering height of almost seven feet tall and looks down at me. It's dark and I can't see his face, or how disgusted he might be with me. I push myself up to my knees and look away from him. "'Dey call you Tiger Claw," he whispers. "You know why?" I shake my head, still refusing to look at him.

"'Dey t'ink you strong." The barbarian finishes. "Strong man need strong woman."

I hear his thundering footsteps near me. He fists his hand into my hair, and I wince, waiting for the painful yank. But it never comes. He gently turns my head towards his.

My eyes widen and I gasp. He's the most beautiful specimen of man I've ever seen. His long hair is thickly braided and hangs down to his hips. His eyes are black and his eyelashes are thick black as well, making his face look darker. He has full russet lips, a cleft in his prominent chin, and defined cheekbones that make his manly face look perfectly contoured in the firelight.

His huge finger finds my lip and touches the blood there. "How you do 'dis?" he asks me. I'm so startled that I can't find my words. I glance towards the door. "Three Horses?"

I nod, and he grits his teeth. "Bastard should beat his own whores," he grumbles, and yanks me up by my arm.

I stand in front of him weakly, uncomfortable in my dirty red dress. He stands back and looks at me. He slips off his fur vest, revealing a huge muscled chest and abs so prominent that they looked like they could grate cheese. I refrain myself from fainting at this man's sheer beauty.

Suddenly, he raises his hand and tears off a strip of my red silk dress. I shriek and back away from him. "What do you think you are doing?" I hiss at him horror. He cocks his head, not quite understanding. His hands go around to his waist to untie the breechcloth that hid his manhood from her eyes.

"No!" she put her hands up to cease his movement. She stumbled back to where the barbarian's bed was and gripped the fur covers.

He looks at me like I have three heads growing out of my neck. "No?" he asks in confusion. "_No_?"

His hands fall away from his breechcloth as he narrows his eyes and sucks his lip into his mouth. My heart is pounding. He comes at me quickly and I scream, trying to jump away, but I am too slow.

He wrestles me to the bed, lifting my skirts and struggling his way through my undergarments. "Be still!" he booms.

There are tears in my eyes as he inserts a finger inside of me. He makes a noise, like he had contemplating something for days and just now found the answer to his question. He takes his finger out of me and pops it into his mouth, separating those sweet russet lips and swirling his juice-coated finger into his mouth.

I stay still and silent, completely taken aback by what he is doing. Flames spark down near my groin as I watch as he looks into my eyes and greedily sucks my nectar off of his finger like it was some sort of fine wine. It was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced in my entire life.

He took his finger out of his mouth and rested his hand next to my head. "Virgin," he whispers before laughing deeply. He steps away from me, still laughing. He throws a pile of furs in her direction, taking a sip of his wine glass. "Dress yourself, budurwa. I shall not bed you tonight."

He sits back down in his chair. My heart pounds faster and faster. This was reality. Here I was in a barbarian castle, sitting indecently in the corner of a barbarian's room in a torn red dress as his whore.

I can't do this.

I _won't_ do this.

0o0o0o0o

**Hausa Dictionary: **(it gets a little nasty down here!)

**Ku zo nan: **Come here.

**Wannan mutum****yanã son ya****kwanta****ka****dab da ****Emilia****: **This man wishes to bed you alongside Emilia.

**Farar fata karuwa: **White slut/whore

**Kariya: **Bitch

**Budurwa: **Virgin

Thanks for reading you guys! Review if you liked it. No one's ever written anything like this in the J/B fandom, so I'm really looking for thoughts and opinions and if I should go on. Thanks!

Courtney xx


	2. Bruise

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the lovely reviews! You guys rock, you really do. I mean, I realize that Barbarian!Jacob is very attractive, though, and you can't help but be greedy and want more ;) So do I! I love writing him. It has also been brought to my attention that I've been switching POVS and tenses and I'm sorry about that—it's just me being used to writing in 3rd person, past tense. It'll take some getting used to, but I'll make sure to fix that little mix-up in this chapter. Thanks for letting me know!

**Chapter Two: **_Bruise_

The next morning I wake up in a comfortable, warm bed. I don't remember how I got here or how I got changed into the animal skin bedclothes. I open my eyes and look around. I'm still in _his_ room. Did he take advantage of me during the night? I wait for the painful ache between my legs to come, but it doesn't.

I'm relieved.

As I throw the bearskin covers off of my body, I notice how scantily dressed I am. The cloth doesn't do much to hide my breasts or shield my legs. I understand that it's hot where we are, but to dress like this is a complete disgrace. If my father ever saw me like this, he'd surely roll in his grave.

A loud knock on the door causes me to jump. _He_ strides into the room, wearing nothing but bearskin pants and a deerskin breechcloth. He wears bones around his neck, and has feathers weaved into his long braid. On his face are red patterns and black lines as if someone had painted on him.

I look down to his hands to see what he carries in his hand. It's a dress made out of sheer gold material. He looks at me expectantly, holding out the dress. I slide slowly out of the bed and hesitantly take it into my hands. He turns away as soon as it's in my hands and sits down in his chair.

Am I to change in front of him? I walk back into the corner of the room and slowly slip off my top. He throws a glance in my direction while drinking his wine, his black eyes roaming over my pale skin. I squeak in disapproval; he chuckles and turns back towards his wine.

"You insecure," he croons in his smooth bass. "I am no stranger to the woman's body."

My eyes widen and I can feel my cheeks flush. As soon as my top is off, I slip on the dress. It's beautiful, but awfully revealing. Two strips of gold material cover my breasts and the sheer skirt does not do much to hide my legs. If it weren't for the gold undergarment, he would have had me walking around half naked.

He looks at me when I'm finished. "First meal starts soon," he grunts. His beautiful eyes roam up and down my body. I cross my arms over my chest and he chuckles again. "_Budurwa_."

I look at him, blushing. I do not even know this man's name, and yet he wishes me to bed him. "What do you call yourself?"

He sips his wine, his eyes darting from hers to the wall every so often. "Is not your place to be askin' 'dat."

I feel as if I've been punched right in my gut. Back in Forks, I was treated with such respect. Men would come round, throwing their names at me so I'd remember them and maybe want to court them. But now, here, I felt like the dirt on the sole of someone's feet, a burden.

I put my hands on my hips and frown at him. "You sit here, expecting me to be your whore, and you don't even have the common decency to tell me your name?" I hiss. "That's just grand."

His eyebrows rise at my comment, his black eyes flickering with mirth. "You test me," he says. "Three Horses was right. Strong woman, you are."

He stands up from where he was seated in his big bearskin chair. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a long, golden chain. It is the most beautiful piece of jewelry I've ever seen. He slips it over my head, and then pushes a lock of my chestnut hair out of my eyes. "A gift?" I ask.

He nods and the corner of his mouth tugs up slightly. "Na'am, Tiger Claw. A gift from _Dances With Wolves_."

My mouth falls open slightly. I remember the story that Rosalie told me in the harem, about the barbarian king, Dances With Wolves and his raging temper. I am almost afraid to lift my eyes to his, but I do anyways. He is here, he is tangible, and he is standing right in front of me.

"Your name," I whisper. "It's…it's Dances With Wolves?"

He proudly nods.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "You…you're the barbarian king?"

"Yes," he begins, picking up his goblet of wine and sipping the red liquid, all the while keeping his eyes on her. "I am the king. But if you wish to, you may call me Jacob. "

I blink. "Jacob? That's a commoner's name."

He shrugs his shoulders. "We are all given commoner's names at birth, as well as our _barbaric_ names, as your kind would call it. For instance, Three Horses' commoner's name is Paul, and Drinks of Waterfall has Embry. The barbaric names are what we prefer to be called, because 'de name describes us. Embry's father was a heavy drinker, so when he was born he was given 'de pure name of Drinks of Waterfall, to rid 'is family name of drinkin'. And Paul was sold by 'is father as a child for three horses, thus 'de name Three Horses came about."

My mouth drops open. "I had no idea."

Jacob sighs and sets his goblet down on the cherry wood table. "But," he begins. "If you call me my common name in public, or anyone else, there _will_ be consequences."

He turns on his heel to leave. "Wait!" I call. "I'm Isabella, _not_ Tiger Claw."

Jacob doesn't look amused. "We must leave."

I fold my arms tighter over my chest and follow him down the long, dark hallways until I can hear the sound of chatter and clinking of plates in the dining hall. I watch as Jacob steps into the dining hall first.

The room goes silent. He opens his arms and smiles, and the cheering starts up again. He takes his place at the end of the table, and food is instantly passed to him. I peer into the bright dining hall from the dark corridor I'm in. Some of the harem girls were sitting on their man's laps and feeding them sensually, but I don't see Angelina, Rosalie, or Alice.

I step into the light slightly. Men can see me now, and some hoot and try to call me over to them. Jacob turns around slowly, glancing at me. "Eat," he says to me, nodding his head towards the seat near his. It's empty.

I walk around the table slowly, trying my best to hide my embarrassment as the men holler at me rudely. Suddenly, a man takes my seat. I give him an angry look before glancing back at Jacob. He does not pay attention. One of the harem girls is sitting in his lap and feeding him.

I do not know this man. He suddenly pulls me onto his lap, gesturing for me to eat. I do not squeal, for this must be the custom of a barbarian. On the china plate, which looked a lot like my mother's stolen plates, are some fried potatoes and sausages. I pick up the fork and stab at one of the potatoes.

The man's lap is uncomfortable and he shifts every so often, his fingers groping at my thighs. I try not to mind it. "Feed me," he says. I shiver as I lift one of the sausage links up to his lips shakily. He takes a bite off the end, locking eyes with me and growling in approval.

I'm disgusted. I turn away and eat the rest of my potatoes. "Again," he tells me. I ignore him, eating at my own food. He has hands, and he can feed himself if he wishes to.

The man becomes agitated. Suddenly, he grabs me and spreads my legs apart, jamming his finger into my wetness without warning or reason. I scream, standing up instantly. I backhand him as hard as I can.

The room falls silent as the man curses and spits out a bit of blood from his lip. I can't believe that I just slapped a barbarian across the face. He looks up at me with hatred and lunges at me, grabbing me around the neck and begins to choke me.

I gasp for air that is nonexistent as his fingers tighten around my esophagus and choke, my eyes becoming wide, my cheeks flushing bright red. No one says anything.

"How dare you disrespect me in my own house, you _kariya_!" he booms, his fingers going tighter on my neck, if that was even possible. He lifts me off the ground.

I look at Jacob, waiting for him to say something. But he says nothing, looking away into the corner.

He drops me and I collapse to the ground, the sound of my ragged breath echoing throughout the hall. I'm humiliated. I'm hurt. My pride is gone. He laughs at my pain.

I force myself to my feet, the world going dizzy around me, and rush out of the hall. Jacob rubs his temples and groans. I don't stop when he says to stop. I'm crying so hard that I can't focus on anything else but the pain in my neck and the salty tears coating my cheeks.

I faintly remember where the harem was located, my bare feet slapping on the cold stone floors as I rush to the comfort of Angelina and Rosalie's arms. I see the big wooden door, the first one to the right of the stone staircase.

I burst into the room and into the unyielding arms of Embry, or Drinks of Waterfall. I gasp and wipe at my eyes quickly before he could see that I was crying. He sets me back on my feet before taking a good look at me. "You cry," he states.

I push past him and run straight into Angelina's arms. "Oh, my lady!" she gasps, stroking my hair softly.

"We must escape!" I cry to her and she shakes her sadly.

"There's no escaping now. I've been taken as the mistress of Drinks of Waterfall…and he won't let me out of his sight." Angelina quietly explains.

I freeze, glancing behind me. He is waiting at the doorway for her expectantly. He wears a satisfied, grin on his lips, looking me up and down. I turn back to Angelina. "And you're alright with this?"

She rolls up her sleeve to reveal a line of dark purple bruises on her smooth skin. "I have to be, my lady." I'm horrified. She rolls down her sleeve, blushing in shame.

"Who did this to you?" I hiss.

Angelina hugs me again. "I don't want you to worry about me," she whispers. "It's my job to worry about you."

I slump against her. "I hate him. Oh God, I hate him so much, Angelina. He let him choke me in front of everyone and said and did nothing to stop it." I'm sobbing now.

"Angel," a smooth bass croons.

Angelina sighs and kisses my cheeks. "He calls me," she whispers in my ear. "You are strong. Stronger than I…keep your head up always, my lady."

She pulls away from me and joins Embry at the doorway. He places a kiss on her temple and walks her out the door, his hand placed firmly on her backside. I feel sick to my stomach. The other ladies look at me.

I recognize Alice as she bounces over to me. "Isabella, right?" she asks. I nod and lower my eyes to the ground. She gasps, the sharp intake of breath startling me. "Who did that to you?"

I realize she's talking about the handprint shaped bruises now forming on my neck. "I was choked," I explain sullenly. "Plain and simple."

Alice bites her lip. "Oh honey," she whispers. "That must hurt like a _kariya_. Was it your master that did that to you?"

I shake my head. "No, it was another. But my master said nothing in my defense."

Alice pulls me over to where her cot was and sat me down it. She has a wooden bowl filled with an odd violet colored cream. She swipes some of the cream onto her two fingers and held it up to Bella. "This will help the bruising," she tells me. I tilt my head and let her lather some of the cream on. "I use it sometimes."

I laugh humorlessly. "I'm sure it comes in handy."

Alice shrugs. "Not unless you're careful, respectful and obedient, not really. The barbarians don't hurt unless they need to…or unless it's a ceremony."

"Bullshit," I spit hatefully, my eyes narrowing.

She sighs and tilts my head again to get better access to the bruises. "Isabella…who is your master?"

I almost say Jacob out of spite, but I'd rather not have him coming to me and choking me as well. "His name is Dances With Wolves." I say.

All of the harem girls gasp, stopping whatever they were doing to look right at me. Alice walks around in front of me to look at me in confusion. "Dances With Wolves? The king? Oh, Gods. He doesn't take whores often…and certainly not mistresses. I think only two girls have been with him in this entire room…Rosalie and Athenodora."

A frail, beautiful blonde girl steps forward and smiles bashfully. Alice introduces her as Athenodora. Her hair reaches her hips and her black lashes are the longest I've yet to see.

Alice gulps before looking back at me. "How has he treated you? Has he bed you yet?"

My face reddens. "I refused him."

Everyone gasps, including sweet little Athenodora, who looks no more than 16. "And what did he do?" she asks me. "Was he very angry at you?"

I shake my head. "No. He let me sleep."

Everyone gasps again. Athenodora covers her mouth, her blue eyes widening in shock. "That's amazing. How did you persuade him?" Another woman, Sulpicia, asks me.

My face reddens in embarrassment as I recall the memory of him doing things to me last night on his bed. "I cried, and he found out that I was a virgin."

Athenodora frowns. "Well, that didn't stop him from taking my virginity!" she pouts. Then her pretty pink lips curl up into a honey sweet smile. "But I wouldn't of given myself up to a finer man. He was an _excellent_ lover."

The girls come and gather around Athenodora. "Tell us about him," Alice gushes. "He is the most handsome man on the face of this planet. I would die if I was in his arms, even just for a moment."

I frown at all of this good talk about Jacob. He is horrid, and there's no way I'd change my mind. Sex meant nothing to me since I've never had sex before. But I sit and listen to Athenodora's stories anyways.

She blushes and flips her hair out of her eyes. "He had such a mouth on him. Ooh, it was enough to make me lose it without him even touching me at all, I swear." The harem girls squeal and fan themselves.

"I love a dirty talker," Sulpicia moans.

Athenodora continues. "He's got the longest fingers and the cleverest tongue. And oh my, his cock was simply—"

"Stop!" I cry out. "I don't want to hear anymore." My face is red and my nose is scrunched up in disgust.

The blonde girl shakes her head. "You just don't understand how lucky you are, Isabella."

I fold my arms over my chest. "If this is luck, then I'm done for."

Alice pops up from where she sits on the ground. "Look at me! And then look at yourself. You're wearing gold silk and jewels, and I am wearing an animal skin dress. If that is not luck, I do not know what luck is."

I'm still in denial. I walk over to one of the mirrors and inspect myself. I still refuse to believe that I am lucky. Luck to me would be having had made it out of the raid with a tangible house, parents, and my Edward.

0o0o0o0o

I stay in the harem for the rest of the afternoon, only traveling with Alice for meals to bring back to the rest of the girls. Athenodora says that Jacob was looking for me secretly throughout the day. I can't avoid him forever, for my bedroom is also his.

The cream that Alice had given me had really helped to heal the bruises and take the pain away, but the color and handprint is still pretty visible. It's about eight o' clock at night when I foolishly decide to take a step outside of the harem. Jacob waits for me there, a frown on his face and his eyes a storm.

I gasp in surprise, but I don't run. He grabs me by the arm and pedals me down the hallway. I don't refuse him or struggle. He thrusts me into his room, shutting the doors behind us. He spits out a streak of curses in his language, tugging at his braid impatiently.

"Fuck," he swears. "I been lookin' for you all damn day. Where you been?"

I don't answer him. Instead, I look away and turn my back to him. That doesn't fly very well with the barbarian king. A strong hand grips my shoulder and yanks me back around to face him. I bare my teeth at him.

He points an accusing finger at me. "Don't you do 'dat at me, Isabella. When I talk to you, you best answer me!"

He tries to grab me again, but I move out of the way faster. "Don't touch me! Oh, don't you dare." I begin to cry against my will. "You watched me today be humiliated in front of your whole table! You said nothing!"

Jacob's voice raises an octave. "You disrespect him! You deserved it!"

I can't believe my ears. I deserved to be choked and humiliated? Is he serious? "God, he stuck his fingers inside of me against my will, and I disrespected him? That's…that's…oh!" I'm so mad that I can't find the right words to express myself. I tug at my hair roughly.

"You're a harem girl, a whore. My people don't defend our whores. That shames _my_ title! I'm the king!" he yells.

That fuels my fire towards him. Tears sting at my eyes. "If I shame your title, why did you dress me up and haul me down to your breakfast table?" I hiss. My fingers clutch at the gold necklace around my neck. I snap it off of my neck and throw it at him. This surprises him, for he wasn't expecting me to throw the jewels at him. "Why did you try to fuck me if I'm just dirt on the bottom of your feet?" Another strip of gold lace comes off. "I didn't want to be here!"

His face crumbles as he walks forwards. I pound him relentlessly with my fists. He wrestles me back, stopping my nails from clawing at my skin. "Isabella," he whispers. "Stop it. You're hurtin' yourself."

I sob silently, resting my head against his chest. He's warm, and his arms comfort me. But I realize who he is, and I push him, my palms hitting him hard on the chest. He stumbles back in shock. "Don't touch me," I say again. "I'm not your whore."

Jacob grits his teeth. "The one who choked you was my brother."

I turn away from him, my arms folded and my head bent. Tears run silently down my cheeks. I wonder if he can see the bruises on my neck.

"I could not stop him," he whispers. "Our people, for centuries, have believed that if you start a fight with your own brother, a long sword fight must begin. And long sword fights usually result in death. And my brother has wanted my throne for years."

I don't answer him. I wouldn't care if he died. He sits down in the big chair near the fireplace and stares into the burning logs. I walk slowly away into the corner, and sit on Jacob's bed.

He lifts his goblet of wine to his lips. "Are you hurt badly?" he asks me. I do not answer him. He sighs. "Come here."

His voice is so powerful and superior that I find myself subconsciously moving to sit by him. He looks down upon me with blazing, heated eyes. His long, heated fingers brush my hair out of the way to reveal the handprint shaped bruises imprinted into my skin.

He looks away in disgust at what his brother did to me. "Should heal quick," he mumbles. The muscles in his jaw tense as I look at him. "Isabella," he begins. "I shall not…make you bed me tonight."

My heart flutters. He gets up from where he sits at his chair and gulps the rest of the wine down his throat. He slips off his pants, leaving only his breechcloth. His legs are defined and muscular; he's visually a work of art.

"But," he interjects. "You _will_ bed me tomorrow. Men have appetites that are meant to be fulfilled. Rumor has it, Isabella, that 'de harem has told you of my talents, hmm?"

I blush, and my mind forgets completely what I was angry with him about. "I don't know what you speak of."

His lips tug up at the corners. "I know a liar when I see one." Jacob turns and climbs into his bed, waiting expectantly for me to join him. "Come to bed. We should sleep."

I'm reluctant to join him in bed. I undress from my silk and make him turn away before I put on my nightwear. Once I'm finished, he lifts the covers for me to climb in. I'm wary.

I slide to the very edge of the bed, my feet hanging off the edge. I'm still angry with him. I'm still hurt from what he'd said about me, basically telling me that I was nothing to him, and he wouldn't tell his brother to stop choking me because it would have spoiled his crown.

When he says goodnight, I do not say it back. He licks his finger and pinches the fire on the candle out. I close my eyes and try to get comfortable. But it's near impossible.

I'm in a foreign land, in a foreign bed with a foreign man that wants me in an utterly foreign way.

**0o0o0o0o**

* * *

**Hausa Dictionary**

**Na'am:** Yes

**Budurwa**: Virgin

**Kariya:** Bitch

Thanks so much for reading, you guys! I was completely blown away at the amount of reviews I received on chapter one. I give you all virtual pies! **Reviews** mean the world to me…and to Barbarian!Jacob. Keep that in mind (:

Courtney xx


	3. Raid

**Sinful Seduction**

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! Thanks so much for the reviews. I understand that this story might not be for some people, so read with caution. You guys actually really, really rock. Barbarian!Jacob thanks you all for the support. I'm pretty sure I replied to everyone's PM's (besides the anonymous reviewers, can't PM you guys!). Also, a random piece of information: Think of Jacob as a Hausa-speaking sexy barbarian with a Spanish accent. Lmao, what a combo! Sorry this has taken so long, by the way. I had to prepare for my cheerleading tryouts. PRAY I make the team! I've been cheering my whole life. Enjoy (:

**Chapter Three: **_Raid_

_**.~.~.~.~.**_

"_Sit here with me," Edward whispers softly. I feel the passing breeze kissing my neck as it wanders by and the smell of sweet wildflowers it carries with it. I sit by him in the meadow, my knees hugged to my chest._

_His reddish brown hair gleams in the sunlight and I can faintly see the freckles on his pale cheeks illuminating with the sun's presence. He looks like a spring tiger lily. I smile and wrinkle my nose at him. "This place is beautiful. How come I've never been here before?"_

_Edward looks up towards the clouds. His horse, which is tied to the nearest tree whinnies softly. "I'm not sure. As a child, I always used to come up here for some peace of mine. Majestic, isn't it?"_

_I nod breathlessly. "More than majestic," I agree. The whippoorwills and the nightingales sing in the trees, the common loons calling their mysterious call from the lakes deeper into the surrounding forest. Woodpeckers drill into the bark of trees, the clunking noise echoing in my ears._

"_Isabella," he says. I pull my attention from the authentic bird noises and the quiet rustle of the trees to focus on the wonderful man sitting beside me. "One day you will be mine. Promise me, Isabella, that you will save yourself for me. Wait for me. Because I will always come for you, no matter what."_

_My heart flutters with joy. "Okay. I promise you." He grasps my hand and plants a warm kiss on my skin. _

_He smiles a honey sweet smile, one that spreads over his face slower than the thickest molasses. "That's good. I think about our future life together all the time. You and me on the countryside, living in a big old wooden house built by yours truly, a farm in the back, and little bare-bottomed babies running wild around the living room. Can you see it?"_

_I giggle like a little girl and bat my eyelashes at him. "That sounds absolutely wonderful. And yes, I can see it." I say bashfully. I can't help but picture the scene myself. Little redheaded girls with big green eyes and pretty faces freckled like a robin's egg, and big strong brunette boys with her brown eyes and Edward's sweet smile._

_He smiles and lays his folded hands on his knees, puffing out his chest proudly. "Alright. Then it's settled. You and me?"_

_I nod. "You and me."_

.~.~.~.~.

My heart is pounding as I depart from my dream. My mouth falls into a frown as I realize that I'm not in Edward's bed, but in _his _bed, in _his _lands. But I'm comfortable, I'm so comfortable, and I don't want to get up. My eyes flicker open slightly, taking in my surroundings. A heavy tanned arm is draped across my body, and my legs are entwined with another pair of long, hot legs.

My eyes widen in realization. I'm lying closer to a man than I ever had before, he wasn't even Edward. Jacob still sleeps soundly. I don't want to wake him, so I try to slip out of his grasp quietly. I lift his arm off of me and set it on his side. I pull my right leg out of his. He stirs quietly.

I silently curse and try my left leg. I've almost got it free when a huge hand wraps around my neck, a gigantic thumb threatening to push on my pulse point. "Where you goin'?" he asks.

This angers me. The bruise on my neck still hurts from his brother's assault yesterday. "Let me go," I hiss. "I'm trying to get up."

His grip tightens. "Lay back down," he instructs in a firm voice. "I don' wanna get up yet."

Shivers crawl up my spine. My fingers try to peel his off of my skin. "You don't need me to sleep," I say. I struggle to get out of his grasp, but he's unrelenting. "Use a pillow, Jacob."

He brings me closer and buries his nose into my hair. "Stay," he whispers. "We got a long day ahead of us. I wanna sleep as long as I can."

I'm somewhat comfortable in his warm arms, despite the fact that it's like lying in a soft bed with a steaming hot rock. My fingers trace a pattern on his hand. "What do you mean that we've got a long day ahead of us?"

His hot breath on my neck gives me gooseflesh all over my body. "The raid parties are goin' out," he whispers huskily. "I got to oversee it in an hour."

I don't say anything, for I fear that saying something insulting while in his arms could mean something dangerous for me. It's a wise choice, not saying anything. His warm hand caresses the smooth skin over my hip and his fingertips skirt over my thigh. I tense up almost immediately.

He kisses a bruise on my shoulder as his fingers trail down towards my womanhood. I clench my legs together and roll away from him. "Don't," I whisper. I try to stand but he just pulls me closer to his body.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asks me. "I told you I wouldn't rape you. I…I not like my men. I take a woman when she begs me to take her, to fuck her so hard and fast that her vision goes blurry and her voice is shot for days."

Heat flares in my southern regions, my eyes as wide as saucers as I listen to him. Jacob's huge hands settle on the soft swell of my hips and he grinds his erection into my backside. I find myself gasping before I can even register it. "But I—"

"I won't take you unless you ask me to," he confirms, somewhat soothing my worries. " And I don' t'ink you'll get a better offer than dat. But Isabella, my Tiger Claw, I doubt you'll be able to stay away from me for long."

I shudder as he rolls away onto his back, his arms coming up to shield his eyes. I'm frozen in my position. I don't know what to think, or what to say. I look down and see his breechcloth lying on the floor.

My eyes flicker back to his huge, beautiful body laying beneath the sheets—I realize that he is naked under the covers and that he was flesh to flesh against me, completely aroused.

He looks at me from under his arm, his long black lashes hiding his mischievous brown eyes. "You like what you see?" I realize that I'm staring straight at the appendage straining against the silky sheets.

I gasp quickly and look away, redness instantly painting my cheeks. He chuckles smoothly and slides out of bed. He throws the covers off of his glorious naked body and strides over to his wardrobe.

I can't help but stare as I see him walk in front of me, his muscled ass cheeks flexing with each step. I feel like I want to swoon. But I remember who this man is and I instantly shake the thought out of my head.

I follow subtly behind him. I don't have a wardrobe of my own, and I'm relying on Jacob to give me something to wear. He notices me lingering awkwardly and realizes why I'm doing it. "I should pro'lly tell you 'dat your clothes are in 'de other wardrobe over 'dere."

Something about his accent makes me shiver. I look over to the wardrobe in the corner of the large room. I hadn't noticed it before. I open the big wooden doors. I'm blown away at how many dresses are stuffed into the little closet. Reds, blues, greens, yellows, pinks, oranges, and an abundance of other beautiful colors.

I glance over at Jacob, changing in the corner. He slips on a red breechcloth with a brown leather waist covering. He then dips two fingers into a wooden paint bowl, spreading paint all over his naked chest. I look in the closet for a red dress. I feel somehow connected with my _master, _and can't help myself when I think about matching him.

I select a red silk dress from the wardrobe and begin to change behind the wardrobe door. There's a cracked mirror beside the door, and I look at myself to make sure I appear alright.

The silk accents my supple, womanly curves perfectly, adding just the right amount of concealment needed for my satisfaction and comfort. I see Jacob staring at me, mirth in his eyes. My face reddens and I seethe at him. "You wearin' it wrong," he mumbles in his thick, husky accent. "Here, lemme help you."

I decide whether or not I should let him help me. "Don't look at my chest," I warn him. He takes the silk off of my shoulders, keeping his eyes down as he wrapped the red silk tightly around my bare breasts. As soon as they're covered, he looks up, walking around me all the while winding the silk around my body.

By the time he's finished, I look and feel like an exotic princess. The way he wrapped me boosted my breasts and made them look awfully perky and 'up for grabs'. He comes back with red jewels on another golden chain, and hands it to me. It's more beautiful than the gorgeous one I wore yesterday.

"Where did you get this?" I ask him. He merely shrugs his shoulders, painting on his body more. I examine the jewels for a moment more before I decide to put them around my neck. I sweep my long chestnut curls forward and then back. I feel dirty after not having had a bath in a few days. Perhaps I'd ask for one later.

He brings the paint bowl over to me. "I paint you," he murmurs, holding out the bowl. I look at the liquid inside of the bowl and cringe. It's red and thick looking.

"Is it berry juice?" I ask.

Jacob snorts. "Pig's blood."

I hold back the vomit threatening to come up the back of my throat. "I'm not putting pig's blood on me," I say defiantly. "That's…that's _gross_."

He raises an eyebrow. "Do you know how petty you sound?" he asks, somewhat amused. "We always wear red on the days of the raids. And as my mistress, you're to honor my title by wearing pig's blood on your face."

I suddenly feel guilty about wearing red, and wish that I could change out of my clothes. Stupid girl, why did you have to want to color coordinate with him? "How can you send raid parties out and be proud of what you do? You steal, you pillage and plunder, and you kill. You kidnap, you take slaves. You ruin lives!" Jacob is listening to me intently as if he actually cares about what I am saying. "I'm not wearing the pig's blood."

He gets mad this time, his face reddening as he clenches his fists at his side and grits his teeth. "You _are_ wearing the blood."

I put my hands on my hips and stare at him defiantly. "I do not approve! I will not support this."

"I do not care if you support or not!" he booms angrily. I jump in shock; I've offended him greatly. "You could have been raped, and you could have and _should have_ been beaten for you defiance! But alas, you have not! I could take this all away right now and be your worst nightmare, Isabella. Hold. Your. Tongue."

My face pales instantly and I feel my stomach churn in fear. I believe him. I stop acting like a child and sit down in the chair. I nod breathlessly. As he calms, I watch the fire go right out of his big brown eyes to watch as the soothing waves roll in.

He dips two fingers into the blood and begins to paint on my face. I let him. I close my eyes as he swirls his wet fingers over my smooth skin, streaking both my cheeks with three stripes of blood and dots above my eyes.

"Done," he whispers softly, the same smile tugging at the corner of his reluctant lips. "You look like a barbarian now."

I'm not proud of that, but I'm really glad that he's not angry anymore. Rosalie had told me of his temper, and I'd foolishly almost pushed him right over the edge. I insulted everything he lived for.

The barbarians are a life of crime. They are born of blood and death, sacrifice and fault. I stand as he opens the door to the hallway. I follow him outside, hearing the bustle of soldiers in red cloths and blood acting as body paint rush down the hallway with spears, knives and khopesh swords in their hands.

He leads me to the grand hall, where his throne sits. It's a great golden throne with animal skins thrown over it and spears jutting from the back of it, skewering dead bear heads like a meat ka-bob.

I cringe when I see their glassy eyes staring at me. Jacob sits down on his throne and nods to the tiny pillow next to his throne. Am I supposed to sit there? He gives me a serious look that tells me that I shouldn't argue.

I sit down on the red velvet pillow and watch as the men silence immediately in Jacob's presence. I scan the crowds. I see Jacob's brother and instantly fuel my hatred towards him. Jacob had told me his brother's name, Iron Coyote or his commoner's name, Samuel, and of his actions.

Iron Coyote's whores always came out of his bedroom bruised and bloody, and he is always greedy with the lust for Jacob's throne and fortune. I glare at him. He points at the bruises on my neck, bringing it to the attention of another barbarian warrior. They laugh heartily. I curse them mentally.

Jacob gives them a death stare. Iron Coyote and his colleague quiet down. He stands, the blood on his body dripping through the deep ridges in his abdominal muscles. Then he does something I do not expect. He roars like a lion, and his men join him in calling. He raises a special spear laying next to his throne and raises it into the air. The spear is drenched with dark red blood. That doesn't look like pig's blood.

Jacob speaks in his language to the crowd of rowdy barbarians. I do not catch where he is leading the raid, but I feel the slightest disgust towards Jacob as he talks to the crowd of riled up warriors ready to shed blood and steal.

He is so animated when he speaks. I read his movements instead of his lips. He moves his hands in the formation of the sun, waves of an ocean, and flexes his inhumanly large bicep muscles to show strength. I can't help but ogle. Athenodora was right about one thing with Jacob—he was a fine man indeed.

I know when his speech is over. The men all chant the same words three times in a row, "Za mu yi yãki, mu rayu ma yau da dare!" before they rush out of the grand hall and out of the castle.

Jacob gets up from his throne and follows slowly behind his men. He casts a glance over his shoulder and gives me an intense gaze. "Ku zo," he says. "Come. Follow me outside."

I get up from my position on the pillow and start after him slowly. He holds the door open for me surprisingly and leads me out into the unbearable hot day. The roads have been kicked with extra dust from all of the barefooted men running around with large wolves that acted as pets.

The barbarians took wild wolves to their raids to make it easier for them. The wolves would attack anyone they saw and get a free meal. I stand beside Jacob, feeling slightly ashamed to be the king's mistress.

"Ku zo," he says again, nodding his head to the small stable behind the castle. Inside there are horses whinnying and whining loudly. I've lots of experience with horses for my father ran a farm and I would ride my favorite horse Pansy out into the meadows sometimes.

He walks into the stables, inspecting the horses until he finds one. It is a strong palomino blonde horse. I'm in love with the horse immediately. I reach out my hand, and the horse puts its soft nose into my palm. I giggle softly.

"Yours," he tells me. I look at him incredulously. Is he serious? He smiles and nods, like he's reading my mind. "Named Rana Fashe_._ _Daybreak."_

"Rana Fashe, Daybreak," I repeat. He smiles slightly and rests his muscled arms on the pen of my new horse's pen.

He points at a strong black stallion in the next stall. "Mine," he says. "Name is Tsakar dare. In your language, his name is _Midnight_."

I'm fascinated. I had no idea that the barbarians favored horses. They usually liked to walk barefoot to places or ride their oxen in their fields. It was stupid of me to think that they didn't ride horses, but I just had never seen them raid villages on the backs of horses.

I purse my lips before looking back up at him. "Do we get to ride them?" I ask him. There's a certain glint in his eyes that tells me _yes, you do get to._ I'm excited. This is the first nice thing Jacob's done for me since I'd gotten here, not mentioning the fact that he let sex go for two days in a row.

He starts to walk out of the stables. I'm confused. "Jac—uh, I mean Dances With Wolves, wait!"

Jacob turns around to look at me, his black eyes digging deep beneath my clothes. "Yes?" His voice is so smooth and deep; it gives me shivers.

I shift in my place and moisten my dry lips with my tongue. I point to his body paintings. "I thought…aren't you going to take um…_Tsakar dare_ out to the raid?" My voice is shaky. I throw a glance back to the black stallion huffing impatiently.

He simply looks at me and says, "Someone must run the kingdom." Then he turns on his heel and leaves me alone in the stables. My shoulders slump slightly. I pat my new horse's nose before following after him.

Jacob is far ahead and he does not slow down for me to catch up to him. I stand in front of the stables and watch him enter his great stone castle. He hadn't beckoned me after him or anything.

I narrow my eyes. Fine, if he does not care of my whereabouts, why should it matter if I took Daybreak out for a first ride? I run back to the stables where my horse is waiting patiently in her pen, and let her out. I grab the reins on the horse's back and lead her out into the sunshine.

The horse is eager to be ridden, I can tell. I hoist myself up onto her back and speed out into the forest.

0o0o0o0o

The meadow about two miles from the castle is the most beautiful meadow I've ever seen. Wildflowers are littered around the grass like the gods dumped a full handful of mixed flower seeds over the little section.

I steer Daybreak over to a tree and hop off of her back, typing the reins loosely to a branch so she wouldn't run away. I've never ridden a more coordinated horse. The birds sing in the trees, the gentle breeze kissing at my naked shoulders. It blows the soft red silk of my skirt back, and I feel a cooling breeze cool off my hot legs.

I've never been so at ease. I've probably been away from the castle for a half hour. I wonder if Jacob's looking for me by now. I don't know, and I shouldn't care. I bend down and pick up a beautiful wild poppy, smelling it.

I then put it in my hair, just like I used to do when I was a child. I bound across the meadow, feeling the soft flowers at my ankles until I hit the treeline. I peer ahead. I can't see anything but green.

It's beautiful.

As I turn to check on Daybreak, I hear a cry far out in the distance. I want to investigate. I unleash Daybreak from her post at the tree and steer her forward into the trees.

We go down a hill and across a small bubbling creek before I hear the cry again. In the distance I see a village. Then as I urge the horse forward, I hear more and more cries of villagers…and then the cries of barbarians.

My eyes widen as I see the sight unfolding before me. Barbarians are burning houses and ransacking villagers of their wealth, carrying them in heavy sacks thrown across their backs.

One raises a spear and goes charging at a young woman trying to escape into the forest with her keepsake and handmaiden. He chases her until she falls to the ground, the bag of keepsakes spilling over the grass. I want to cry when I see the spear pierce the skin above her heart.

The handmaiden is also killed, and the keepsake bag is rummaged and stolen from the deceased. I look away, back to the center of the village. One man has a noose around his neck and is being dragged to a wooden idol in the center of a village. One barbarian throws one side of the rope over the idol's arm and yanks.

The man is hung, and then laughed at. My heart fills with anguish, sadness and fury. The houses burn down. Money and jewels are stolen. Lives are taken, and maidens are raped before their dying mothers.

I hear one barbarian unleash his wolf on a man and his child. The man struggles to defend his child, but the wolf gets in a good bite, and the child dies instantly. The man fights off the wolf, but eventually the animal's strong jaws lock around his neck and tears.

Tears sting my eyes. I slap the reins on my horse and turn back into the meadow. I hadn't seen the gist of what had happened that day. I heard my house being ransacked, I saw a man speared, and I ran off into the forest before anything worse could happen.

As I turn around, I see Jacob sitting on his strong black stallion, a cold look on his face. I'm afraid to move, but my horse slowly canters forwards. I can tell that he's angry with me. I wipe away my tears and try to compose myself.

He digs his heels into his horse's belly and gallops full speed ahead until he reaches me. "What 'de _fuck _do you t'ink you're doing?" he booms, his eyes filled to the brim with blood red wrath. "You try to escape!"

I'm angry with him. I hear the screaming in the background. "No, I wasn't trying to escape," I cry back at him angrily. "I was taking my horse out for a ride. It didn't look like you cared, did you?"

His face turns bright red. "How dare you! Y_a kamata in ya buga muku mummunan hali!"_ Now he's screaming in his barbaric language, ranting as his horse circles mine.

Now I begin to cry against my will. I'm so angry that I can't help myself. "I should have run away! You're a horrible human being. You're no king! You're a slaughterer, a beast!" I dig my heels into the horse's belly and run ahead. He speeds after me.

"And you're no mistress either, you won't even fuck me!" he spits. "That's what whores 'supposed to do, huh? 'Dey fuck 'de man, not piss 'de man off! _Dakiki kariya Ya kamata ka__zauna__a inda__kuka kasance__. __Shin__abin da kuke__aka ce__! Kana iya an ji masa rauni.__"_

I make Daybreak run faster ahead. Finally, Jacob gives up and lets me speed ahead. Tears blind my eyes as Daybreak gallops faster. I'm so angry I feel uncontrollable. I want Angelina. I want to sob in her arms, and I want her to tell me that everything will be alright.

But will it be?

0o0o0o0o

I find Jacob to be so angry when we come back in from our little quarrel out in the meadows. I hide away in the harem during lunch and a little bit after 3 o' clock. I sit in the bathtub behind a curtain, the dark room lit by luminous and fragrant candles.

I sigh and lean my head against the lip of the wooden bathtub. Angelina comes up behind me, dressed in brilliant green silk and emerald jewels. She has been taken as Drinks of Waterfall's mistress. "Have you not pleased your master? Just this evening I saw him taking Clair into his chambers."

I feel angry and almost betrayed that Jacob made love to another woman, but I remember that he's a barbarian and that's what they do. I shrug my shoulders, and wash the red blood off of my skin. I do not mind Angelina in here. She has helped give me baths countless times before, but now I feel like it really isn't right.

We are equals now, in this utterly foreign land.

She kneels near the tub and dips her finger into the hot water. "You did not answer me, my lady."

I grimace and shake my head, my wet hand gripping hers. "I'm no longer _my lady_ to you, Angelina. Call me Isabella."

Angelina opens her big brown eyes in shock. "I—I am not your equal. I am your handmaiden—"

"Not here," I cut her off quickly. "And never will you be my handmaiden again. You are a friend…my closest friend." She smiles tenderly at me, blushing a bright red color. I sink deeper into the bathwater and sigh.

She looks behind the curtain for anyone listening or watching. "He told me his commoner's name," Angelina whispers to me. I'm interested. I lean forward in the tub, wanting to hear the name. "It's Embry. But god save us all, Isabella, if he finds out about me telling you that."

I press my lips into a straight, tight line and nod. "Your secret is safe with me," I chuckle. "He told me his name was Jacob. I'm not supposed to tell you that either, but I don't care."

Angelina furrows her brow. "He is not pleased with you? Or are you not pleased with him?"

I shrug. "It can go both ways, really." I explain, the hot water licking at my shoulders. "I ran off with the new horse he gave me to have a ride and get some fresh air for a half hour, and he got awfully upset with me. But I saw the village he led his men on and I became…sick, almost. It was appalling, Angelina. The slaughter, the blood, the fire, and the death."

Her eyes widened as she pulled up a stool and listened for more. "That's horrible!" she exclaims. Her eyes are full of fear and upset. I don't blame myself for putting it there. I blame Jacob and his barbarian pack of brutes.

I lick my lips, mirth sparkling in my eyes. "I told him he was no king, and that he was a slaughterer. He didn't enjoy hearing that, I'll tell you that. I was afraid he'd strike me, but I rode ahead and he hasn't bothered me since."

I stand from the bath and Angelina hands me a towel to dry myself with. She helps my silky golden robes onto me before leading me out of the bathing area. The women gather around Clair, one of the younger girls in the harem. She is bruised and weakened.

Suddenly, I remember what Angelina told me. Clair had gone into Jacob's room to satisfy his sexual needs. I'm horrified. I storm out of the room.

0o0o0o0o

He is so angry that he does not speak to me that night. I lay in bed long after he had gone to sleep. My fingers run over the blunt edge of the curved blade. I'm drowsy and tired, and I can even tell myself that I'm not in the right mindset.

I slowly sit up, making sure that I do not rouse him from his sleep. I press the silver blade to his neck. My heart's pounding in my chest. He does not wake. I climb into his lap, pressing the blade harder to his neck.

"Do it." The voice startles me. It's soft, but I do not expect it. He does not open his eyes, and he does not move. His lips merely move again. "Do it. Slit my throat. Do it." I stall, my heart clambering ridiculously against my ribs. I can't move. He cracks his eyes open a little bit and slides his hands up my arms. "I said _do it._"

I stare down him under heavy lidded eyes. "You are not afraid?" I ask softly. The candles are the only light in the large room.

He chuckles and gets comfortable under the blade. "Everyone dies_, zaki da budurwar_. Whether it be now or sixty years from now, whether it be by your blade or old age. It all happens."

My lip trembles. "If I don't kill you, you'll just kill more innocent people."

He blinks. "Yes." I'm startled by his answer. I am the one with the blade, and his life is (possibly) in danger. I press the tip into his jugular vein, careful not to split any skin. "I won't lie to you, Tiger Claw. I steal, I kill, I beat, and I fuck…but I do not lie."

I imagine the kingdom without Jacob. Then his brother, Sam, would take the throne, and me as his mistress. I cringe. I pull away the blade and slump against his body. The blade clatters to the floor.

Warm, large arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer. Hot lips are near my ear. Tears sting at my eyes and fall slowly down my cheeks. "I do not deserve your kindness," I sniffle quietly.

"No," he agrees. "You don't. But you still gon' get it."

I pull back to look at him, my eyes watery. "I just attempted to kill you."

His hand comes up to stroke my cheek, pushing hair out of my eyes, and his lips pulled up in a smug grin. "S'nothin'. You not the first one to try and kill me, Tiger Claw. But I'm glad that 'dis time it was _you_."

He lays me back down next to him. I'm at ease, but I know I'm not completely off the hook. My cold fingers find his warm hand and I begin to trace the patterns of his palm. He grasps my hand and squeezes tightly.

"Sleep, _soyayya,_" he says.

I close my eyes.

I sleep, never letting go of his hand.

0o0o0o0o

**Hausa Dictionary (I'm teaching you another language!):**

**Za mu****yi yãki****, ****mu****rayu****ma yau da dare: **We fight, we live for tonight

**Ku zo: **Come

**Rana Fashe:** Daybreak

**Tsakar dare**: Midnight

**Ya kamata in ya buga muku mummunan hali:** I should hit you for your terrible attitude

**Dakiki kariya Ya kamata ka****zauna****a inda****kuka kasance****. ****Shin****abin da kuke****aka ce****! Kana iya an ji masa rauni****: **Stupid bitch, you should have stayed where you were. Do what you are told! You could have been hurt.

** Zaki da budurwar: **Sweet girl

**Soyayya:** Love

Wow, thanks for the AMAZING feedback! You guys freakin' rock! I'm going to a semi formal soon, so I really wanted to get this up on the site because a lot of you PM'd me about the next chapter…well here it is! **Review** and let me know how it was. And how barbarian Jacob was!


	4. Deal

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note:** Hey all! Thanks for reviewing. I want to make one thing clear for some special readers. **WARNING:** This story suggests themes of rape, assault, and homicide. _Not in any way_ do I support these things, I'm just writing them down into a Fanfiction. If you have a problem with the way these things are portrayed, **stop here now**. I just had to put that out there since some anonymous reviewers told me that this was a disgraceful story and that they, and I quote, "Felt sorry for me as a woman." Yes, I _will_ delete flaming reviews. If you have something to say about my story, contact me personally, or don't say anything at all, please. Thank you. (And no, I'm not taking this down. How dare you!) * sighs * Now that that's over (God, I hate ranting.) we can continue with the story. Love all my readers so much!

**PS**. Thanks for all the kind wishes about cheerleading in the last chapter's review bit. OBVIOUSLY, it paid off because I am now a varsity spirit and competiton cheerleader! I love y'all!

_Barbarian Jacob is a way of life._

**Chapter Four: **_Deal_

When I wake up, he's dressed and sitting in his big bear skin chair by the unlit fireplace. It's sort of cold that morning. He's a complete blanket-hog, and leaves me with barely anything to cover up with. _Maybe it's because his body's so big_, I contemplate.

He's got an old sack lying by his feet. Jacob's long black hair falls, unbraided, around his shoulders. It's silky and black, just like the midnight sky. He knows I'm awake. He pulls a blue sapphire necklace out of the sack and holds it up. "You like 'dis?" he asks.

Jacob casts a sideways glance at me. I nod quickly and clear my throat. "It's beautiful," I murmur, gripping the sheets beneath the soft linen sheets beneath me. He tosses it over to me, and then focuses his attention back to the bag.

I examine the jewels. They sparkle in the sweet morning light filtering through the windows in Jacob's room. They're absolutely gorgeous. I wonder if he bought them for me.

I slide out of bed, only clad in my nightgown, and approach him slowly. He notices my presence, but does not stop his rummaging. "Good morning, then," he grounds out in his deep, husky voice.

Nodding, I go to sit by his chair. I jerk my head towards the bag sitting beside his feet. "Where'd you get those?" I ask him curiously. "Did you buy them all?"

He merely chuckles and shakes his head. "I am the king. I do not _buy,"_ he snaps, like I'm supposed to know that.

I frown and look into the bag. There are jewels and gold and other valuable items. I lick my dry lips. "Then where did you get them all?" I ask, slightly annoyed that he still hasn't answered me.

"Raid," he replies. "Everything here is a result of raiding, stealing, and pillaging."

I gape, looking around the room. There are paintings, tall wardrobes, and jewels littered around the room. "Everything?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper. I can't believe that everything here had been stolen from villagers.

He'd apparently done a lot of stealing, that was for sure.

Jacob gets up from his seat. "Yes." He carries the bag over to a desk and displays it to her eyes. "Everyt'ing." The jewels are dumped out onto the wooden countertop and feebly toyed with.

I stand by him. I can't believe how beautiful his hair is. I reach out, my mind unable to think and/or process what I'm exactly doing, and stroke the soft black strands. He jumps slightly and turns his head. "Don't touch," he growls at me.

I reel back in surprise, snatching my hand away. I blink uncomfortably. "I'm…I'm sorry. I just wanted to braid it."

He turns around, his nostrils flaring and his eyes trying to search for hidden words in the wood. The muscles in his jaw tense as his fingers grip the sides of his chair. "You want to braid 'de hair?" he asks softly.

I nod, even though he can't see me. "Yes. You…have beautiful hair." My hands itch at my sides. I wonder if he'll let me braid it. The practice of braiding a barbarian man's hair was very sacred; the longer the hair of the barbarian, the greater the warrior.

He stiffly nods his head and relaxes himself. "Alright."

I blink. I don't know if I've heard him right, or if I'm just hallucinating or dreaming. But I'm not. I touch his hair, his long glorious black hair, and separate it into three pieces. I'm in awe. The men in my kingdom had short hair or greasy hair tied back into little ponytails behind their heads.

When I begin to braid, a question enters my mind. "Jacob, do you know what the Silvertongue is?" I ask him. Edward had told me that the barbarians were in possession of the Silvertongue and that was why he wanted to travel there, to decipher the Book of Azazel with it and gain world domination.

I can tell he wasn't expecting the question to come up. He drops the jewel he was inspecting in shock. "How you know about 'dat, _kadan daya_?" he asks me.

I twist his hair tightly, nervous about answering. I think of my words, and how to say them carefully. "Um, well…there was this man back in my village that always used to talk about the Silvertongue and the Book of Azazel. He said that the Silvertongue was here, in the barbarian kingdoms. He said that _you_ were the one that possessed it."

Jacob is tense again, the subject making him uncomfortable. "The Book of Azazel is a force to be reckoned wit'," he growls. "Not good, Isabella. Not good."

I continue to braid his hair. He clenches a chain so tightly in his hand that one of the golden loops bends right in his hands. "Is it true that you really have the Silvertongue with you?" I ask him. "Or were they all bluffing when they said that?"

It takes him a moment to answer me. "Of course I have the Silvertongue with me," he whispers. He nods towards a small wooden box hidden in the corner of the room, under concealment of a few books. "In 'dere. But don't you ever touch it, you hear? S'dangerous."

I'm nearing the end of his braid. "Okay," I say. "Do you have something to tie with?"

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a strip of leather. I tie the end of the braid and let it fall onto his muscled back. I notice the whip marks on his skin. My eyes widen as I run my fingers across them, pink fleshly scars from years ago. "Good gods," I whisper. "What happened to you?"

He sweeps his braid forward and waits a moment before answering me. "Discipline happened to me," he says to me. "My father whipped me when I was young."

How come I've never noticed this? I run my fingertips across his back softly and slowly, trying not to hurt him. He shudders under my touch. "Does that feel good?" I ask him, a tad humorous with my demeanor.

He does not say anything to me, so I automatically assume that he likes it. My fingers run over a scar. "Spirits, woman, your hands are like magic," he moans softly, tilting his head and enjoying my touch. "No masseuse does what you do."

I pull my hands back and his head slumps. "If you not gon' fuck me, the least you can do is 'dat," he grumbles, insisting that I touch him again.

I laugh. "Point taken," I say. But before I can really start working his muscles beneath my fingers, the door bursts open and there stands Three Horses in the doorway.

I snatch my hands away and jump back from where Jacob was sitting. Three Horses clears his throat and his eyes jump to his king. "Your brother got hurt during 'de raid," he says.

Jacob grits his teeth, clearly pissed off about being interrupted. "How injured?" he asks.

"A long gash on his arm," Three Horses replies. "He's in a lot of pain."

Jacob rolls his eyes. I suppress a giggle. "Stupid bastard," he growls. "Where is he now?"

Three Horses nods his head down the hallway. "In his corridor, my king. I told him you would come."

He narrows his eyes at the man standing in the doorway. "You told him…alright. Get out, I'll be there in a moment."

Three Horses nods his head and departs the room, shutting the door behind him. I walk forward, peering down at Jacob. "Iron Coyote?" I question.

Jacob firmly nods, tugging at his braid. "I should just start callin' him 'de stupid bastard," he hisses at no one in particular. "Always foolish, always greedy."

I pull up a wooden chair and sit next to Jacob at the desk. "Did you have to look after him a lot when you were young?" I ask. "Was he a pain then too?"

The beautiful man in front of my laughs humorlessly. "He was the one takin' care of me, Tiger Claw," he remarks. "I'm his younger brother."

I gape. Back in my kingdom, the older child always inherits the throne before the younger child. They always automatically have the privileges and the rights. But the rule only worked for males, and not females; meaning if a man had an older sister, he would take the throne before she did.

I blink and tilt my head. "How…how does this work?" I question. "Usually the older brother gets the throne first, correct?"

He shakes his head, glancing at me through his peripherals. "Not here, it doesn't work like 'dat. Before my father died, he said that I was the more suitable successor. My brother has frequent outbursts of anger that can result in a lot of people getting hurt. He also has a habit of…drinkin' a lot."

"So he just agreed to give the throne over to you?" I ask.

Jacob shook his head, his lips tugging up in a sly smirk. "No, o' course not. He had a fit, an' challenged me to a long sword fight. My brother wanted me dead. My father said that I should accept—he had faith that I'd win the fight. We fought, and I won, coming out of the battle with only a few cuts."

I'm confused. My eyebrows scrunch together and I bite my lip in contemplation. "But Iron Coyote, your brother…he's still alive."

"Good observation, Tiger Claw," he chuckles. "I had mercy on his rotten soul and spared him, just so he could watch me ascend the throne and see the dissatisfaction in his eyes. Just seeing 'de look on his face the day of my crownin' was better 'den sex."

I laugh in shock, my eyes widening. "That's awfully mean," I drawl softly. "But funny. Quite funny."

He gets up and heads to the door. I follow him eagerly, wanting to see the man that assaulted me beaten and bloody in his bed. "Go back to the harem," he instructs before turning down the hall.

I stop in my tracks. "Don't you wish my company?"

Jacob stops walking for a moment. "My _brother_ does not wish your company."

I'm flabbergasted. "What? Why?" I shriek. "_He's_ the one who assaulted _me_! I didn't stick my fingers up his private parts!"

I expect him to roll his eyes at me and continue on, but he does the exact opposite. A small smile creeps onto his face as sweet as honey in the summertime, and he throws his head back, a deep laugh bursting from the cobwebbed and dusty catacombs of his throat.

I've never heard him laugh so loud. The maidservants and slave-men all do a double-take when they hear him laughing, their mouths like O's and their eyes bugging out of their heads.

His big hand lands on my shoulder and steers me around. "Go to the harem," he laughs, the creases of his big brown eyes crinkling with amusement. "And leave me alone."

I'm happy to oblige, a blush rising slowly in my cheeks just like the sun in the morning. I cast my eyes down to the floor and stumble down the hallway to the harem, just like he told me to.

0o0o0o0o

"He did _what_?"

"Laughed!" I reply to Athenodora. "He laughed so loud that I'm pretty sure the whole castle heard it. I've never heard him laugh so loud before."

Alice shuffles forward and sits in our circle. "Okay, so we've never even heard him laugh before. Dances With Wolves doesn't laugh, dammit. Ever. For him, that's like…out of line!"

Angelina finishes Sulpicia's braid before scooting into our circle. "Even Drinks of Waterfall doesn't laugh. And I consider us to be pretty close."

I frown at her. "That's because you lay with him," I interject. "He only likes you for what you've got."

Rosalie shrugs her shoulders. "So what?" she says. "That's what they all want. I consider myself to be pretty close with Three Horses sometimes. He can be so tender during sex. Aren't you giving Dances With Wolves the bits?"

My eyes widen. I don't want to make him feel embarrassed that he hasn't gotten into my pants yet, but I'm also kind of proud that I've stood my ground for this long without having him seduce or rape me. "Y-yes. Of course."

Rosalie rolls her big green doe eyes at me, her brown lashes fluttering. "Oh I know a liar when I see one. You still look like a virgin. But what I want to know is…"

"How you stayed virgin for all this time!" Athenodora interjects. "Tell. Dances With Wolves usually gets down to business, no time for playing around. Puts it in, jams it for a while, gets her off first, _then_ blows his load."

I grimace at the mental picture put into my head by the little blonde twig in front of me. The ladies "ooh" and "aww" in front of me, saying how considerate he was, and how men usually didn't get the woman off at all.

Angelina blinks and rolls her lips, tapping her long fingernails on the cold, stone floor. "Drinks of Waterfall is a good lover," she remarks. "He knows how to please a woman."

Rosalie gets a little defense. She narrows her eyes at Angelina. "That's because he's fucked many. You're nothing special, and don't expect anything more than fucking from him. I should also know that he's a good bed mate."

Angelina gasps, looking down at the floor. I chew my lip anxiously. That was a little bit too harsh. "What she means to say," Alice cuts in. "Is that she just doesn't want you becoming too attached to him. I'm pretty sure Drinks of Waterfall has taken all of us and sampled us a few times. He's asked us all back more than once, and yes, he has his favorites. But they're barbarians, and they don't want attachment or marriage just yet. Especially not the king's guard, which he's a part of."

My friend nods her head, and I can see her eyes bubbling up with tears. I remind myself not to become too attached to Jacob, either. He's probably sampled the whole entire kingdom. He's the goddamn king, and he can have any woman he wants.

The door bursts open and in comes Cecilia, a frail girl with bright blue eyes and light strawberry blonde curls. Her mouth is bloody and her cheekbone was badly bruised.

I gasp as everyone rushes to her aid. My eyes flicker to the doorway, where Iron Coyote stands, bloody bandages on his arm, which was cradled in a leather sling. He casts me a glance, and I instantly feel repulsed. He grins. "Someone needs to teach that whore how to suck cock," he grinds out. "Nipped me."

Before I can stop myself, I scream out, "Good." I'm seething and all I see is red. "Someone needs to teach you a goddamn lesson on how to be fucking human!"

He's no longer laughing. He's angry, clearly pissed. "Who's gonna teach me, princess? You? I'll fuck you for sure."

The whole room is silent as we argue. Cecilia hides behind my body, clearly afraid of the ignorant prince. "Your brother will teach you, just like he always has!"

His eyes widen as he staggers forward, vengeful and pissed. "_Wulakanci ne karuwa!"_ he cries. "How dare you speak to a royal in such a manner!"

He's so close to hitting me when Jacob yanks him away and backhands his older brother across the face. "Fuck, get a hold of yourself! I tol' you to stay in the goddamn bed and stay away from 'de whores!"

Iron Coyote scowls at me and spits in my direction. "Put a leash on your _kariya_, brother…or I will. And she won't like it."

Jacob scowls right back at his brother. "You won't touch what's mine. Ever."

And they're out of the room. Rosalie bounds over to me and grabs me by the collar of my necklace. "Foolish!" she gasps. Then she smiles, laughing breathlessly. "You should have gotten your ass beaten."

"Could have," Alice interjects. "But _didn't_. I think our king here is a bit taken with you, miss Isabella."

I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks again. There's no doubt in my mind that I believe what Alice says. I mean for the gods' sakes, I had braided his hair. That was a worshipped practice!

We all turn our attention back to Cecilia. Alice is like the harem doctor, always making up little potions and serums to heal the beaten and bloodied girls that crawl like scared puppies back into our little harem haven.

She brings over the same purplish potion that she had used on my neck bruises and a bowl of greenish liquid. She sits before Cecilia, dabbing her fingers into the thick violet cream and spreads it in patches over her blackened bruises.

Cecilia winces as Alice moves on to the green liquid. She cleans the violet cream off of her fingers with an old rag and dips them into the greenish liquid. The redhead seems to clench her teeth and tense her muscles when Alice touches her bloodied lip with the liquid.

She cries out in pain, but Alice hushes her. "Calm yourself, Cece. It'll be over in just a few seconds."

And she is right. Alice removes her fingers and Cecilia's lip is rapidly healing before our eyes. "How do you do that?" I find myself asking. Never had I seen a remedy like that practiced back in my little village, not even on our yearly visits to the kingdom.

Alice grins. "It's the _waraka_ leaf, Isabella. That literally translates into 'the healing leaf.' It only grows in the barbarian territories, so that's probably why this seems so new to you. I've been studying the plant life around here for quite some time. It's interesting. Word has it that Dances With Wolves is thinking about maybe naming me the castle healer. Exciting, isn't it?"

I blink and chew on my lip. "What did you do for a living before you were…um, before you…"

"Before I became a whore?" she asks. I cringe at her word choice, because that's not how I would have put it at all. She shrugs her shoulders. "In my village, I was healer and part-time midwife. I worked with my grandmother and my sister Annabel. We collected herbs from the forests and made healing potions…"

My eyes widen. "Oh. That's quite interesting."

Soon, Cecilia is all better and chatting happily to the rest of the harem.

0o0o0o0o

"Don't do 'dat," he scolds me as my fingers scratch at my skin. It's an annoying habit of mine that comes about when I'm nervous, angry or upset. I look down at my arm and I'm slightly surprised to see that I had drawn a little bit of blood.

I feel the sting almost as soon as I pull my fingernail away. The warm, bright red blood trickles down my arm in a little stream. "I'm sorry," I say mindlessly. "It's a habit of mine."

He inhales on the little wooden pipe, and then lets the smoke float out from his lips. "Break it 'den," he tells me firmly. He tosses me a wet rag that lay in a bowl on the counter and I wipe away the blood subtly.

It's around eleven o' clock in the morning and he had called me in here for company about fifteen minutes ago. He smokes his pipe and drinks his wine as he lounges on the stone floor, back pressed up against the wall.

I sit near him. He tells me that I amuse him more than the other whores, and that he liked having me all to himself even though he didn't get to fuck me. It was kind of a compliment, and I liked being kind of complimented.

Jacob gazes at me from under heavy-lidded eyes and smirks. "I like you," he remarks. "You try to kill me."

I heave out a surprised huff of laughter and furrow my brows. "I don't see how that makes any sense at all. I tried to kill you. You should really hate me, you know."

He purses his lips and shakes his head. "I can't hate you, Tiger Claw. You're 'de strongest woman I ever met." He draws smoke from his pipe and lets it curl of out of his lips like a smoke-dragon.

I blush bright red. "If that's a compliment, then…then thank you. You're not a pompous arrogant prick like your other men are. You're so much different."

He chuckles softly, and sets down his pipe to fetch his goblet of wine. "I know," he simply says. "And gods, I can't wait to fuck you. I've never done a _budurwa."_

I frown at him and show my teeth at him. "You know what? I actually take back what I said about you."

"Relax!" he laughs. "I was just jokin' wit' you."

I can feel myself relax as I let out a little breathy noise that passes for laughter. I slump against the wall too. "Cruel, King Jacob. Quite cruel…" I grab the pipe and inhale the smoke, trying to see if I could curl smoke out of my lips just like he did.

But instead I do the opposite. Instead I choke on the smoke, nearly killing myself and giving Jacob a heart attack. "You inhaled," he laughs. "_Stupid_."

I laugh in shock, my eyes widening. "You are positively cruel." I hand the pipe back to him, still coughing. He offers his wine, but I turn it down. I was never big on wine. I fan myself with my hand. The heat of the outdoors flowing through the open window makes my hair frizz up and my skin feel sticky. "It's scorching hot in here!"

"Got a lot warmer in here when you walked in," he says in his deep, smooth voice. I gasp softly as my head snaps towards his. At first I assume he's joking, but the look on his face says otherwise. He smiles sweeter and slower than molasses.

This man must have had years and years of education in the art of seducing whores. But I'm not a whore, I'm a civilized woman educated in the arts of courtship and kindness, which the barbarian people obviously lack. "That was a good one," I tell him, nodding my head.

He looks out past me, staring the marks on the door. "There's gon' be a festival tonight. I want you to come an' stand by me."

I blink, watching him intently with interested eyes as he draws smoke from his pipe again. "You…you want me to come to the festival tonight…and stand by you?"

He nods his head. "S' a _shagali _festival. Big fire, dancin', loud music, and rituals. We have one every _damina_, or as your kind call it, summer."

I tap my blunt fingernails on the stone floor. "So you want me to come to your _shaggly_?"

He laughs. "Sha-ga-li," he breaks it down for me.

"Shagali," I repeat. "Festival." He nods and smiles.

"I should teach you Quileute," he says.

I furrow my eyebrows at him. "Quileute?" I ask. "What's that?"

He lets smoke curl out from his lips, smiling slowly. His eyes glow with youth and mischief. "That's actually what we originally go by. But you palefaces jus' kep' callin' us barbarians so much that it kinda stuck wit' us."

My face reddens and I choke back laughter. "Oh, I didn't know. So you go by Quileute?" I ask him.

He shrugs his massive shoulders, setting the pipe down and drinking from his goblet. "I do, but 'de men took on 'de likin' of barbarian."

I sigh. "I never knew." He licks the excess wine droplets off of his full russet lips and makes a noise so deep in his chest that makes my heart flutter, sending a burst of heat down to my lady parts. I try to shake it off by taking my mind somewhere else. "So you're going to teach me your language?"

He nods. "If you want."

I nod right back at him. "I want."

He holds up his goblet and shows me the contents. "_Giya_. Wine. Now you repeat it back to me."

"Giya," I say, testing it out on my tongue.

He nods his head, his braid falling forward over his broad and toned shoulder. "Good. Now…" Jacob points to his eyes. "_Idanu_. Eyes."

"Idanu. Eyes."

It goes on like that for a little bit longer. Hair is _gashi_, chair is _kujera_, hands are _hannayen_, smoke is _shan_ _taba_, legs are _kafafu_ and arms are _makamai_. He makes a deal with me at that moment. He promises to tell me a new word each day when we wake and teach me some of the words as long as I promise not to get on his nerves as much anymore, and to _never_ run away again.

I agree to his terms.

He smirks as he stands from his position on the floor. I gape like a Venus flytrap trying to catch bugs on a hot summer afternoon as he unties his breechcloth, baring his muscled and firm backside to my unyielding eyes.

I wonder what he's doing. Will he take me? He does not, I find out, when he strolls to one of the doors in his room, opening it and revealing a large, dark bathroom, illuminated by scented candles and beautiful decorations.

He turns his torso around so he can look at me. I do not see his genitals. "I'm going to get clean before 'de _shagali._ You're very welcome to join me, Is'bella."

I feel my face heat up like a pot of water over a raging cooking fire. I look away from his beautiful being to the cold, hard ground. He shrugs and sighs. "If you change your mind, I'll leave 'de door unlocked for you. Feel free to surprise me."

I gasp and look up. I can faintly see his satisfied smile and his wink, but he's already mostly disappeared into the bathroom, his braid flicking behind him like a horse's tail. That _man_.

It's sinful the way this man's seducing me. He's making me want him for all of the wrong reasons I should want a man for. And to be truthful, I've never wanted a man as much as I want Jacob at this moment.

0o0o0o0o

**Hausa Dictionary: (there's a lot today…!)**

**Kadan daya: **little one

**Wulakanci ne karuwa: **Disgraceful whore

**Kariya: **Bitch

**Waraka: **Healing

**Burdurwa: **Virgin

**Shagali: **Festival

**Damina: **Summer

**Giya: **Wine

**Idanu: **Eyes

**Gashi:**Hair

**Kujera: **Chair

**Hannayen: **Hands

**Shan taba: **Smoke

**Kafafu: **Legs

**Makamai**: Arms

Thank you all so much for reading…I really appreciate it! Up next: Jacob's shagali and dancing and music and barbarian rituals. **Review** if you want, and you'll just make me really, super, extremely happy and inspired to write some pretty kickass ideas for the festival. Remember, please no flames. Thanks for the wishes on cheerleading, and like I said before…it really paid off! Varsity here I come. I'm really proud of myself. I love you all! More to come soon!

Ps. I'll try to reply to all of you this time. If I don't reply to you, it doesn't mean I love you any less! No, that's not that case. I still give you all your personal barbarian Jacob. I've just been really busy lately.


	5. Shagali

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews! We made it over 120! Holy crap, and I'm only on the fourth chapter…lol. The song for this chapter that I'd recommend listening to is _The Kiss from Last of the Mohicans._ I just really like and I had been listening to it a lot while creating this chapter. I think it would go greatly with the festival/bonfire scene. Give it a shot, it definitely deserves one!

**Chapter Five:** _Shagali_

He comes out of the bathroom fully naked and still dripping wet, soapy water trickling through his defined abdominal muscles like they were deep trenches.

I'm lounging on his bed, my skirt hiked up my leg completely, baring my milky white skin to his hungry eyes. I was looking at a book with interesting pictures that told me a little bit about the barbarian/Quileute history.

His eyes are like an animal in mating season, a male seeing his female perfectly in reach, and very much in heat. Jacob bounds over to me in three graceful, yet manly steps and grips me by the neck, pressing me to the sheets forcefully.

At first I'm scared that he doesn't like that I was reading his book without his permission and is going to choke me, but then I realize that he's smirking, his grip on my neck lessening quickly.

"What are you doin'," he whispers softly in my ear. "Loungin' on my bed like 'dat. Lookin' so…so _fuckable_."

I want to gasp, but the wind has been locked out of my lungs as his heavy, naked body pins mine to the bed. I begin to struggle, but he mistakes my attempt at escaping his arms as passion.

He groans loud, his head collapsing against his chest. "Ungh. Is'bella…" His voice makes my body betray my mind; I'm aroused. His erection is pressing into me, and I realize that I must have pressed my pelvis into him.

He looks up into my eyes, his big brown orbs blazing with lust. "You want me." Oh, there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him…well, I definitely wanted something, but I just couldn't put my finger on it exactly.

Suddenly, I become overcome with panic. I shove at his shoulders, prying his arms off of my body. "Stop!" I squeal weakly. He instantly releases me, stepping back, the lust bleeding out of his eyes like water on paint.

"I hurt you?" he asks me.

The look on his face makes my heart ache. He's confused, and both upset and angry with himself. I don't think I can bear to tell him that he was scaring me, or that he's hurt me.

I hold up the old book and wave it before his eyes. "You were, um…crushing the book, that's all. You didn't hurt me."

Relief floods his face. "Goddamn book," he curses, taking the ancient work and tossing it to the other corner of the room. He gestures with his hands roughly. "I told you I won't do nuttin' 'till you're ready. I wan' you beggin' for it."

I blush a deep shade of red. He's cracked me like a nutshell. "I know. And I really respect you for that. It just makes me thing about how shaming it might be to have a whore and to be pushed away every single time. You're the king, and you don't even get to lay with a woman."

He shrugs his shoulders, his long, unbraided black hair spilling like a waterfall down his back. He grabs a brown deerskin breechcloth and ties it around his waist. "I don' care. Each whore in 'dat harem is too easy to get. You make it a challenge. I like challenge. Kings live for challenges in life."

My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. I can't believe that he just said that. I want to hug him, and I find myself subconsciously leaning forward. And then gravity gives me a huge push and I fall into his arms, gripping his biceps before going down.

He takes it like I've tripped, but I know that it's much, much more than a simple act of clumsiness. His arms seem to comfort me. Jacob lifts me up onto my feet and steadies me. "You alright?"

I nod breathlessly. I constantly tell myself that I should oppose his touch, but I don't feel like it's such an issue anymore. "Thank you."

He sits down in his big chair by the unlit fireplace. "Why?" he asks me. "Why are you so afraid of sex and making love? I think you'd know by now 'dat I would never hurt you. B'cause if I wanted to hurt you I sure as hell would have done it already."

I nod my head and I can tell that he's telling me the truth. But the real question was: do I tell him the truth? Or do I lie? "Back in my kingdom, there was a man that I thought I was in love with." I tell him the truth. "I promised myself to him. He said he'd find me no matter what, and that he'd always come for me."

Jacob stares out into the day, his jaw set tight and his eyes hardened. "Tell me more," he demands quietly. "What did he promise you?"

Now I feel a little nervous. "He told me that he would build a house on the countryside and give me lots of little children, we'd be peacefully secluded and…together, in love, never a worry in our minds.."

He does not say anything for a very long time, staring at the stone pattern on the floor. He is thinking. I shift in my place. "I can never give you that," he finally says softly. "Never a house on the countryside, never a peacefully secluded life, and there will always be worries, no matter what."

I look down at the floor. I wish that I'd never said anything. "Jacob, I…"

"Don't," he cuts me off quickly. "I don't care about your lover from 'de other village. You're here, not there, and you're mine and not his. This is a land of no promises, no exceptions. You belong to me, Is'bella. End of story."

I understand that, but I hate the way that he's put it. I fold my arms. "You make me sound like a piece of property, Jacob." I scold him.

He turns and growls at me. "Don't you start wit' me," he hisses. He hands his goblet at me. "Go," he says dismissively. "Get me some more wine."

Now I'm getting angry. "Haven't you had enough?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. "No, Is'bell…remember the deal? Abide by it, and I beg you, which I should not have to, for some more wine."

I narrow my eyes at him before sighing in surrender and take the goblet out of my room and down to the kitchen. How could such a tender moment turn into an angry one?

0o0o0o0o

It's dark and hot outside where Jacob has decided to hold the _shagali_. There is a huge bonfire in the middle, roaring like a dragon and popping sparks into the night air. His throne is carried outside by four men and set beside the fireplace. Apparently Jacob had instructed for my mock "throne" to be made as well, and out of strong wood and draped with bearskins.

Jacob had given me a complete barbarian make over. The silks that I wear tonight are blue. Apparently, on the days of the raids they wear red, and on festivals, they wear blue, representing the rain.

My silk wraps around my breasts and leaves my torso exposed and uncovered. The skirt is long, but scandalously sheer. He had painted my face, arms and legs, and given me sapphire jewels to wear on my neck, wrists and ankles. Then a crown twisted of a thick vine entwined with a blue-jeweled chain.

Apparently I looked beautiful, since half the men couldn't hush their cat calls and suggestive comments towards me too silent. A lot of them got the evil eye from Jacob.

And that is where I sit now. In my wooden throne next to Jacob's jewel encrusted gold one, watching the fire, listening to barbarians play unfamiliar instruments as my harem friends dance around the fire.

I look around in the dark. I see Angelina sitting on Drinks of Waterfall's lap, kissing his cheeks tenderly as he rubbed his hands on her arms and over the humble swells of her breasts. I grimace.

She is not the same anymore. She enjoys being here with her barbarian master and serving his manly needs every night. I push my long, soft chestnut hair out of my eyes and fix the vine and jewel headband acting as a crown atop my hair.

The harem girls are dressed in different colors of silks, none of them blue. Alice is in pink, Rosalie is in violet, Emilia is in yellow, Cecilia is in green, Athenodora is in red, Sulpicia is in orange and Didyme is in silver, Jezebel is in a honey-golden silk, and the others are in different colors. They all look beautiful, but what they are doing completely shames their title.

A man suddenly grabs Didyme and proceeds to bend her over and fuck her right in front of everyone. Didyme cries out in shock and pain at the man's force. The crowd cheers. I gasp and glance up at Jacob in horror.

He nods. "Normal," he says. "You do not have a festival without at least one fuck or a few fights."

The man finishes with Didyme and throws her back into the circle. The other harem girls kiss her cheeks and dance with her, like she is the center of attention. And Didyme smiles like a giddy young girl that had just kissed her first boy. Jacob leans over to tell me something else. "'De first woman to get fucked at a festival is said to receive good fortune," he tells me. "It is a blessed tradition."

"More like a horrid tradition," I mutter under my breath. He does not hear me say it though, and I am thankful.

The stringed instruments pick up and the drums bang loudly, sending vibrations through each of our bodies at the _shagali_. The harem girls twirl all at the same time when the drum hits the hardest, and they each go out to the crowds, choosing a man to dance sensually with.

I see Angelina dancing with Drinks of Waterfall. He places his hands on her hips and brings her in close. I'm suddenly jealous. I see Jacob drinking his wine with this sullen look on his face. My decision is unanimous and quick. I stand and make my way in front of him. "Do you always sit here like a bum?" I ask him jokingly.

He's surprised and looks around to see if anyone's listening. "Sit down," he growls at me. "Don't make a fool of yourself in front of the men."

I sigh and grab his hand. The music is catchy and all I want to do is try and dance with him. "Please?" I ask him. "All I want to do is dance with you, and for you to dance with me."

He waves his hand at me. "I'm the king, Is'bella."

I put my hands on my hips defiantly. "Kings can dance, too." Suddenly, I begin to sway in time with the music, my hips lifting and dropping with each drum beat. "Can't they? Or are kings too coward to show off their crazy dancing skills?" People watch with curiosity. Some of the whores back at my home put on a show for the men in bars, moving their hips sensually just like I'm doing right now.

Jacob's face is red, but his eyes are lustful. He wants me, and he wants to dance with me. That's what I want—that reaction from him is spot on. He's reluctant, so I dance even more sensually. He rubs his stubbly chin with his big hand and chuckles.

"Come on, O' Mighty King of mine. Dance with your fine lady on this humble night, and look yonder into the twilight to see your youth once more." I say in a dreamy sort of voice, twirling around in the air. He's smiling, but he's still reluctant.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his brother staring at me with an evil look on his face. I become uncomfortable, but I'm so close to getting him off of his seat that I don't stop dancing. I try to focus on luring him out, but Iron Coyote's devilish eyes burn into my skin, and I can suddenly feel how much _he _wants me, and how much he's willing to take me.

Jacob notices the distress on my face and glances to the left, where his brother stands, admiring my body from afar. He shoots up from where he sits and scowls at his brother, who doesn't notice him until he grabs me by the arms and whisks me off into the crowds.

People are quickly noticing Jacob's movement from the throne to me, and I can tell they're surprised. He leans over and whispers into my ear. "I don' like 'de way he looks at you," he says to me.

I shake my head quickly. "I don't either. You think I like being stared at like I'm a piece of meat? I thought your brother hated me anyways."

Jacob glares over my shoulder at his brother. I yelp as his hands slide down to my backside and he grips me there, hard. I want to push him away, but I know he's making a territorial statement to his brother. "No," he says. "He wants everyt'ting I have, Is'bella. He wants my throne, my title, my jewels, and my Tiger Claw."

I break away from him and twirl myself on his arm. He gives me an odd look. "And what was that?" he asks me. "That ain't been done before anywhere 'ere."

The drums speed up and I move my hips faster, twirling all around him. He has trouble keeping up with me. "Some ladies back in my village taught me how to do it. It's called a twirl, or at least that's what I call it."

"Tvirl," he mispronounces the word.

I giggle and correct him. "No, no, no. T-wi-rl." I sound it out for him. By the way I'm acting, I feel as if I've had too many wines before I came out to dance. While I had filled Jacob's goblet up with wine in the kitchen, I decided to experiment myself.

And I had found that wine was very good, and that I had been missing out on a lot by disliking the bitter taste. But my tastebuds had developed, and I was grateful for that. "You 'de one teachin' how to say words, hmm?" he asks me, his eyebrows raised. "'Dat how it works now, little one?"

My foot catches on a rock and I go spiraling into the dark. But he catches me before I hit the ground, spinning me onto my back so that I'm facing him. My lips are millimeters away from his and I can feel the attraction like a magnet, pulling us together.

But yet again, we don't kiss. The sound of Iron Coyote's voice makes me jump. I stand back up. "Havin' fun wit' your whore, little brother?" he asks. I scowl at him, but he doesn't see since Jacob quickly shoves me behind him.

"Who are you to interrupt us?" Jacob hisses. "Couldn't you see 'dat we were in 'de middle of somet'in?"

"The fuckin' prince of the barbarians," Iron Coyote smugly replies.

Jacob scoffs. "And who am I, _older_ brother? 'Dat's right, the goddamn King of the 'de barbarians."

Iron Coyote's face drops and he scowls at his brother. "Only 'cause our father insisted it be so. Old man was a goddamn fool leavin' you in charge wit' our kingdom. You're a flop of a ruler."

I can't believe that I'm hearing him say that to the _king_ of the barbarians. It's unbelievable. "I wouldn't start on that. _Kana__bugu__kowane__awa daya__da rana ba!_ No one has once suggested you king instead of me."

Emilia bursts out of the crowds and latches onto Iron Coyote's arm. She kisses his skin and he grins at her. He pulls her in front of him and cups a hand over her womanhood. She turns her head shamelessly and kisses his neck.

"'Dis is a whore," he announces, grinning like a mad fool. "I'm sure you ain't even fucked 'dat one yet. Get to it, kadan dan'uwan, because if you don't want to fuck her, I be happy to take her."

Jacob seethes at his brother, grasping my arm. "Dauki karuwa da kuma tafi, ku bugu wawa!" he hisses. "Leave my sight. Here you go again, spoilin' somet'in that we supposed to be havin' a good time at."

0o0o0o0o

I'm back in my chair. The dance hadn't lasted long due to Iron Coyote's rude interruption. I want to rip each follicle of hair out of his head slowly and painfully. Jacob stares dully out at the crackling fire, sipping at his fifth goblet of wine. Does he never tire of the drink?

I watch as Cecilia is taken before the public eye and jostled about like a rag doll. I look away, for it's not something I'd ever approve of or enjoy watching. I feel sorry for her, and I believe that I realize my luck, sitting upon a nice throne next to the most beautiful man in all of the land.

I see another man break out of the crowd and land a powerful punch to the other man's jaw, the one that was having sex with Cecilia. I watch Jacob sit up in his seat, leaning forward with interest.

Before I can realize it, I turn my head back and the two men are battling viciously. The one with the longer hair swings and hits the shorter haired one, knocking him to the ground.

The shorter haired barbarian quickly scrambles to his feet, kicking up dirt around the fire. The crowd forms a circle around them, watching and betting on who would win the fight. Blood trickles down his face. The shorthaired one looks awfully younger than the older, longhaired one.

"Tell me something," I beg him. He gives me a look before sighing.

"Black Bear," Jacob whispers to me. He points to the younger, short haired one. "Seth is the commoner's name. Very gentle, most likely the gentlest out of all of us."

I glance at the longer haired one. "And what about the older one? What it is his name?"

"Gray Hawk," he replies. "Or Jared. He is a strong, stubborn man. He can be cruel…but yet again, all of us can be."

I find myself routing for the one named Black Bear. He looks about seventeen or eighteen years old, his sweaty, damp black hair kissing his shoulders. He has blue markings and tattoos on his body as well.

Gray Hawk's long hair is not as long as Jacob's but reaches his middle back. Gray Hawk has many more tribal tattoos than Black Bear, but I suppose it's because Gray Hawk's been around longer than he has. I suspect he's four years older than me, about twenty-four years old.

Black Bear's nose is spouting blood like a spigot and his lip is red and puffy. Gray Hawk has less damage on him, a few scratches on his arms, and a busted lip. The older man lands a fatal blow to Black Bear, and he's down on the ground with a sickening crack. He struggles on the ground.

I begin to panic in my seat. "He'll die!" I find myself crying out. My fingers grip the sides of my throne, watching intently.

Black Bear is still on the ground. Gray Hawk steps over him and prepares to land the final blow. But the younger one is clever and knocks his heavy body into Gray Hawk's leg. The older one tumbles to the ground. Black Bear grabs a fairly large stick on the ground laying close to him and presses it against Gray Hawk's neck in one quick motion.

"Yi biyayya! _Yi_ _biyayya_!" Black Bear screams. Gray Hawk is very red in the face and flustered as he struggles under Black Bear's pressure and the force of the stick. I can tell that Black Bear is screaming for Gray Hawk to submit and yield.

Gray Hawk's hand hits the dirt floor three times. The crowd roars in approval, pounding their feet on the logs and cheering Black Bear's name. Cecilia gets up from her place on the ground and goes to Black Bear's side. He pulls her in close and kisses her cheeks.

As for the loser, Gray Hawk is shamed for losing a fight and gets his hair cut off a few inches. Four for losing the fight, and two more for losing to a minor. He looks pissed off in the process, gripping the fallen locks of thick black hair in his hands.

Punishment for loss.

I glance over at Jacob and see his long hair reaching his hips. It's very clear to me that he's not lost a fight in a very long time. In the end, Black Bear gets the woman and the credit and Gray Hawk is left for dust.

Now that the fight is over, people begin to dance, drink, and eat again. I find my thin stomach grumbling. I hadn't eaten in a while even though food was endless in the barbarian castle. I stand and go to the table of food.

There's meats beyond belief, and there's nothing but meat. Chicken legs and wings, pork slabs, ham cuts, turkey drumsticks, and chunks of beef resting on plates, flies buzzing hungrily around it all. They're all hot and cooked.

But out of the corner of my eye, I see a lone piece of green fruit sitting on a white plate at the end of the table. I can tell that there were once more than one of those strange fruits on the platter, but all were taken.

I'm not really big on eating the meat with the extra flies on it, so I make my way down to the table. As a reach out to grab it, another hand beats me to it. I look up to see a tall, beautiful barbarian woman in front of me, biting into the light green fruit. The end looked like a star.

I reel back in shock. Her hair is cut short near her ears and her big, wild eyes are filled with resentment. She smiles sarcastically at me, tilting her head. "Dakiki," she mutters.

I turn slowly, not wanting a fight with this strong woman. She spits on the ground, a chunk of fruit coming with it. I cringe at it and begin to walk away. "Tiger Claw, no?"

Apparently Tiger Claw was the universal name that the barbarians used to call me, and not just Jacob and Three Horses. I turn back around and nod my head slowly. The burly girl looks me up and down, her long russet legs bared and silky. She does not look like the harem girls.

She wears a short deerskin skirt with a flimsy top that showed her toned stomach. She is very tall, wearing moccasins and a ruby around her neck. "Yes," I reply.

The young woman uses her short fingernails to grip into the flesh of the fruit and her fingertips to break it in half. Juice spurts out at me, but I don't flinch. "Y-You take," she stutters. By the way she speaks, I can tell that she has not spoken the Common Tongue for long and was not very good at it.

I hesitantly take the fruit and lift it to my lips. The taste is similar to an apple's and a pear's tastes both combined into one. It's quite good, I decide. I nod my head up at her. "Thank you," I whisper.

She looks down at me, unsmiling. "No," is all she can manage to say. I look up at her in confusion.

I furrow my eyebrows and swallow a bite of fruit. "What do you mean?"

"Na gode," she tells me. "T'ank you be _na gode._"

My eyes widen in understanding. "Na gode," I repeat. "That means thank you?"

She nods. And then walks away.

I'm left standing at the table, wondering what just happened here. I see her across the fire, standing next to Black Bear and rubbing his muscled chest. She says something to him in Quileute that I do not understand and he laughs, kissing her on the cheek. She pushes him hard and smiles.

_Now that's the meaning of tough love_, I think. I grab a turkey drumstick off the table for Jacob. If he doesn't want it, I'll eat it. I don't particularly care.

He's watching as another fight breaks loose in the crowds. I sit down in my throne and hand him the turkey drumstick. He jumps when I shove it in front of his nose, and then gives me a cold look. But he takes it anyways, tearing into it viciously with his teeth.

I smirk. And before I know it, the fight is over. The loser gets 5 inches cut from his hair and the winner gets a whore for the night and a higher status title as well as a longer window for their hair to grow before their next fight.

0o0o0o0o

He is angry tonight. He is drunk. After the shagali, he came onto me hard and fast. He wanted me badly, and I was too scared to give him what he wanted. I ended up slapping him and he ended up shoving me outside of his door while he fucked Athenodora inside. I sat and listened to his throaty, husky moans and her high pitched squeals of pleasure as she was thrown about in the waves of ecstasy.

I've been out in the dark, hot hallway for about an hour. I suppose that he fell asleep with her and completely forgot about me outside of the door. He told me that if I ran off to the harem, I would be punished. He did not tell me how I would be punished, but I was not prepared to find out.

The sound of crickets, owls and night frogs is the only thing I hear. I lean against the wooden door, my legs hugged to my chest and my hair covering the sides of my face. I feel tired, but my mind is alert.

And then I hear it; a drunken laugh, and a pair of stumbling feet down the hallway. I stand and press my back to the door. The torches in the hallway light the way a little bit, well enough for me to see the figure of a barbarian man to emerge.

My heart pounds. "Karuwa," I hear him say. I've been around long enough to know what I'm being called, and that karuwa means 'whore.' I'm suddenly very afraid. This man is not Jacob, and he will most certainly have his way with me without my consent.

I do not recognize this man. He is tall, but his face is one I have never seen before. It is not Three Horses, Drinks of Waterfall, Iron Coyote, Black Bear, or Gray Hawk. I'm as still as a statue, completely frozen in time.

My eyes are like a deer's right before the arrow plummets through soft skin. My hands shake at my sides. I fear that if I make any noise, he will strike me. I try the doorknob behind me. Jacob has locked the door.

He reaches out and grabs me. I squeal, but his mouth encloses mine. He tastes of strong alcohol and drink. My nails claw at his skin, but he does not move away. Instead he presses on, callused fingertips rubbing at my skin and pulling my skirts up. When I scream, he backhands me.

I feel myself beginning to faint. But before I do, I see the doorknob rattling viciously as the man attempts to drag my limp body down the hallway. And before the world goes dark, I see Jacob standing there with wrath in his eyes and hellfire pumping through his veins.

0o0o0o0o

Hausa Dictionary

**Shagali**: Festival

**Kana****bugu****kowane****awa daya****da rana ba:** You are drunk every hour of the day.

**Kadan dan'uwan**: Little brother

**Dauki****karuwa****da kuma****tafi****, ****ku****bugu****wawa:** Take the whore and go, you fool.

**Yi biyayya**: Submit

**Dakiki**: Stupid

**Na gode:** Thank you

**Karuwa:** Whore

Now before anyone starts to freak out about rape, I already said that I won't have anyone touch her like that. You'll just have to wait and see what happens! Anyways, did you enjoy the shagali? **Review** and tell me, what would you like to see in the upcoming chapters with Barbarian!Jacob and Tiger Claw?

Courtney xx


	6. Heart

Sinful Seduction

Author's Note: Hey all. I'm warning you that the beginning of this chapter is pretty sexual and violent. Prepare yourselves! Anyways, thanks for the awesome reviews. I really appreciate all the support. I got over 40 reviews…I think that's my new record! Wow! Anyways, you'll see Jacob's pissy side and his super-duper nutshell-cracked softy self. Read it. Enjoy it. And love Barbarian Jacob.

**Chapter Six:** _Heart_

When I open my eyes, I do not recognize where I am. Warm water surrounds me and I'm leaning up against a hot, and hard chest. I'm not fully with it but I can tell that I'm in a bathtub. But with whom? That's the greater question.

The bathwater is tinged slightly red. I groan. My bones ache and my mouth is sore. The last thing I remember before I blacked out is that man trying to rape me. But did it happen? My eyes snap open and I abruptly upright.

The cold air hits my naked skin—naked. I turn around and see him sitting there, a startled look on his face. He, too, is naked. I'm horrified. How did my clothes come off? What did he do to me? He's seen my body, me in my most vulnerable state.

I slide away from him quickly, to the other end of the bath and cover myself with my hands. "What did you do?" I ask him softly, too afraid to look him in the eye.

He does not jump to answer right away, and that worries me. Tears sting at my eyes. It's obvious he went against his word. Blood is everywhere. _My_ blood. "Relax, you are still _budurwa,_" he says. "Do you not remember what happened?"

It is early in the morning, but still very dark outside. My wet hair sticks to my face as I frantically try to assess the situation. "No." I tell him. "I don't. But what I want to know is why I'm in the bathtub naked with you. And why you're covered in…in _blood_."

He looks down at himself. He's caked in it. He grits his teeth and looks away. "You are _mine_," he snarls, glaring at me from his peripherals. "I thought I made that pretty damn clear." That still does not answer my question.

I narrow my eyes at him. "That has nothing to do with anything," I tell him. "Absolutely nothing."

"No," Jacob interjects, his voice raising an octave. "That has everything to do with it!" The force and vibration of his voice ripples the water and tears through my skin. His eyes are furious. He is fuming.

I shrink back into the bath water, his tone of voice rattling my bones. I want to cry, but I don't want to show him my weakness. I want to be strong, but his hard eyes knock me right back into being afraid. The candlelight flickers in the dark room. He lifts an arm. It is slashed, right across his tribal tattoo. I gasp and reel back in horror.

He nods towards a cloth on lying on the floor near the bathtub. At first I'm confused, but as I see the blood soaking through the rag, I get a gut-wrenching feeling. "What…what is that? Oh gods, Jacob, please tell me it's not."

Jacob looks at me dead on, his gaze steely and brazen. "It _is_."

I'm horrified. But I should have known. Tears came anyways. He's a barbarian, of horrible ways and traditions. I want out—I don't want to be here anymore. "How could you do that?"

His eyes widen in shock. He leans forward, hellfire in his eyes. "Do you not remember what he tried to do you?"

Suddenly, the memories come running back. Me, standing with my back pressed up against Jacob's door in the night. Me, scared to death. Him, down the hallway, staggering like an idiot. _Him_, everywhere on me. I stare down at the bathwater in horror.

As soon as he's satisfied with my reaction, he leans back in the bathtub and looks at me. "Yes, I killed him. I cut his heart out with my knife and wrapped it in that cloth for you—I wanted you to see it, gruesome as it is. . And I will show it off to all of my people, letting them know that if they come close to you again, _that_ is their fate."

I'm frozen. The words just do not come. My mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes from it. My heart slows. His face is stricken with pain. He licks his dry lips and caresses my knee. I jerk away from him.

He sighs, his heavy chest rising and falling slowly. "Did he hurt you badly?" Jacob asks me. I shrug my shoulders. His head drops, wisps of hair falling into his eyes. "I know it's my fault. I threw you out jus' to fuck."

"No," I interject. "It was my fault. I refused you."

"And I was a drunken fool to begin with," he tells me, shaking his head. "I should'a listened to you when you said I'd had enough wine to drink."

I stare at the long gash on his arm. It still bleeds into the water. "He hurt you," I murmur.

He slightly smirks. "But _I_ kill him."

Now's not a time for laughs. "Let me see it," I say. Suddenly my nakedness and fear is gone as he slowly and tentatively inches towards me, his face blank, but his eyes curious. I examine the gash. It was curved, like it was made by one of the barbarian khopesh swords. I grimace. "It'll get infected if we don't treat it soon." I tell him.

I look up at him and meet his blazing eyes as they burn holes through my skin. "You are beautiful," he murmurs. His free hand reaches up towards my face and strokes my cheek, pushing my wet hair behind my ear. His hand cradles my cheek.

The lull of crickets and night frogs is the only other sound we can hear, besides the blazing hearth and the beating of two hearts as one. "I am plain," I whisper, with a little smile.

He shakes his head. "No," he tells me. "Any man who makes that claim will lose his tongue. Your father must have been a magnificent thief, little one. He stole all the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes."

I look at him and blush. "My father was no thief. You, my king, are the greatest thief of them all." He smiles at me smugly, then cringes when the hot water laps onto his wound.

I look up at him. "I should bandage it now," I say. He nods and waits for me to get out of the tub. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" he asks. "I am no stranger to the female body. And now I am no stranger to yours."

I swear that my face can't get any redder, but it does. I know that he's right. So I stand up right in front of him and exit the tub. I can tell he definitely wasn't expecting that by the flustered and lustful look on his face. I grab the towel before I can take too long of a look at my naked backside.

0o0o0o0o0o

"Alright. That should do it." I say, as I finish wrapping up his arm. He's sitting on the bed, watching my every move as I float around his grand bedroom. "How does it feel?" I ask him.

He moves his arm around in circles. "Stiff," is his final verdict. "But hurt? _Ba_. No. You are _good_ healer." He reaches out and grabs me by the hem of my nightgown. It is still night and I am still tired.

Jacob pulls me between his legs and presses me against his tall torso. Even while sitting, he towers over me. His tongue darts out to moisten his dry lips. I gulp. I want to pull his mind off of the lust that he is feeling at that moment. "Do you want me to—"

"Kiss me," he cuts me off abruptly, his eyes staring deeply into mine. "I protected you. I defended your honor. You should kiss me."

It was all true. I'd only ever kissed a man once, and that was with young Lord Edward, and it was merely a peck on the lips before I ran away with glee. "And…this would be your reward for saving your lady?" I question softly.

He smiles and hugs me closer to his body. "So you know you are mine," he says warmly. "I like 'dat. A lot." His big hand slides slowly over my nightgown, touching my back and my neck, spreading warmth down my spine.

His fingers curl around my neck and gently pull me forward. I'm scared, but I'm ready. I've been fortunate enough not to bed him for a while, and kissing me has most likely been on his number one checklist spot for a while now.

When my lips touch Jacob's, I feel the warmth, the passion, and the lust bleeding out of him and into me. As he presses me to his chest, I can feel his heart thump loudly in tune with mine beneath his breast. With his teeth he gently urges my mouth open, nipping at my bottom lip tenderly before dipping his tongue into my mouth for a tentative taste.

And I do the last the thing I ever expect to do. I moan loudly; the way that his tongue is rubbing against mine makes the inner sex appeal inside of me blossom like a flower in the springtime. As he hears my moan, he deepens the kiss, which I didn't think was possible, and grabs my backside, squeezing me in his large hands.

He grabs the underside of one of my thighs and swings my leg over his hip, and then he follows with the other one. I'm surprised with my reaction. I hook my feet together around his back, pulling myself closer. His warm hands slide from my knees all the way to the insides of my thighs, caressing the soft ivory skin there.

When he cups me _there, _I buck up in surprise, trying to get his hand away from such a forbidden place. But as his fingers start to work magic, I find myself giving into the foreign sensation. "Yes," he whispers. "Oh, _soyayya_. Give in to me. Give in to what you want."

I bury my face into his shoulder as he peppers gentle kisses down my bared neck and touches me in that special place that makes me feel so good. "_Oh_, what is it?" I ask him, my lips mashed to the side of his broad, muscled shoulder.

He chuckles deeply, his smooth baritone bass gliding through my ears like a piece of music. I shudder. "It is your passion, the lust that you have been so selfishly keeping from me for too long," he says.

I want to kiss him again. The wine that I had overloaded on before bed was starting to kick in. I felt dizzy with lust and passion, where as my normal-self would have been backing away into the corner. I lift my head back up, and before I can even request, his lips are on mine, moving in perfect sync and suckling tenderly. My insides turn to jelly almost immediately.

I break away, a strand of saliva still connecting our swollen lips together. My eyes are heavy lidded and his breathing is labored. "Let me finish you," he says.

I shake my head, blinking my eyes slowly. "I-I don't understand what you mean."

He gives me another kiss. "Then I shall be your teacher." He reaches out and touches my lips. "Lips. _Lebe_." Then he kisses the spot above my breasts. "Breasts. _Kiraza_."

"Lebe," I reply. "Kiraza."

Then he touches me there again, hard and fast. I fall off an unseen cliff, crying out into his shoulder. "Pleasure," he gasps, his voice husky. "_Dadi_."

"Dadi," I whisper softly. "_Dadi._ You touched me. I've never been touched like that before."

He cradles me in his arms. "You have never been touched in many ways, budurwa. But prepare yourself little one, for I am known for my skill in the bedroom. I shall treat you well."

I look into his eyes. And for once, I don't see him as a filthy barbarian king that steals, kills and rapes. I see him as a teacher, a friend, a brother…a lover. "I trust you," I say. And I really do mean it.

0o0o0o0o

We sit by the fire in the night, sipping a glass of wine and sitting by the fire. The open window blows cold air into the room, so the fire blazing inside of the stone hearth does us both some good. He sits in his chair while I sit on the floor, back pressed up against the wall.

The firelight flickers off of his beautiful being, casting shadows along the perfect contoured edges of his face. "Tell me a story," I beg of him. The crickets croon loudly in the night, making me feel peaceful, quiet and at ease. I have forgotten the events of the earlier night.

He lifts the goblet to his lips and takes a small sip. I watch his Adam's apple bob as the liquid slides down his throat. "What would you like to know?"

"I don't know," I whisper and shrug my shoulders softly. "Anything, really. Something to pass the time here. I don't know if I wish to sleep just yet."

He leans back against the furs of his seat. "Very well. I shall tell you of my family." He lights his pipe with a match and slips it between his lips. I drawl my knees to my chest and rest my chin atop them. "I had three other siblings. Iron Coyote, then my twin sisters Gentle Raven and Snow Lion. I am the youngest."

I listen to him intently, my head cocked to the side with interest. "I did not know of your sisters."

He leans against the armrest of the chair. "Snow Lion, or as we call her by her Commoner's name Rachel, is married off to the one you know as Three Horses. They have a family and Snow Lion is under his name now. Gentle Raven, Rebecca, died when I was five, and she was 7. I s'pose it was some kind of common illness gone rogue."

I bite my lip and lower my head a little. "I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "My mother died the same way when I was seven, my only other sister Snow Lion was nine, and Iron Coyote was twelve. That was thirteen years ago. My father didn't raise us. We were raised by house-maids, but were punished by my father. He'd whip us when we did somethin' wrong. When my brother was whipped, he'd sit there an' cry like an infant bein' slaughtered. I'd sit and take it surprisingly well for a young boy, five years younger than my brother. My father took notice of that."

I look up at him in the darkness, admiring how the firelight danced off of his skin so perfectly. "You have many scars on your back," I remark. "Were you punished often?"

He nods, drawling from his pipe a long curl of smoke, then let it fall out of his lips like a smoky waterfall. "I deserved it most of the time. Stealin' from the kitchens, gettin' into fights with other kids, and breakin' valuables."

I can't contain my laughter. "But aren't you brought up to steal?" I ask him. "That's what you do. You steal, you fight, and you break. I don't understand why your father punished you for that."

He looks at me in the eye, his lips pursed. "I was touchin' things, I guess, that were already rightfully stolen. I was a hell of a troublemaker when I was a boy. My father admired my fighting skills most of the time, but when I nearly killed the butcher's son for slapping my lil' eight year old girlfriend, he kind o' snapped on me."

My mouth drops open. "Well how'd you almost kill him?"

He closes his eyes for a moment, as if trying to rekindle the memories of that particular day. "First, I choked him. Then I brought out my new khopesh, the one that my father gave to me on my eight birthday to practice with, and cut a long gash on his arm. I was about to slice his neck open, but the boy's dad, the butcher, came out and chased me away with a hot iron skewer before I could deliver the blow. I got thirty lashes that night after the butcher went and complained. My father was in a rage."

I find myself biting my nails when he finishes his story. "Do you still know that little girl?"

"I used to be in love with her," Jacob tells me. "White Fawn was her name. We were together until our fifteenth summer. She married another against my will. I willed her to stay with me, and I could marry her. But her father had already sold her. Her husband beat her when she went wrong and showed her no love. When she was pregnant, he beat her for not movin' fast enough, for bein' ugly in his eyes, and for throwin' up regularly in the mornings and making the bathrooms smell. And when she gave birth, it killed her. The child was a stillborn as well."

I feel tears at the corners of my eyes. I can tell that it kills him to talk about her. "And what of the husband?"

"I wanted to kill him," he bit out. "But I couldn't. Because he was my brother."

I reel back in horror. "Your brother married your first love?" I ask him in shock. He nods. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth and chew on it softly with my teeth. I can only imagine the pain.

"And," he begins, settling the little glass goblet of wine back on the wooden table beside his chair. "That's why I don't want you anywhere near my brother. If you see him, turn your back and come to my side. He won' hurt you by my side. He wouldn't dare. I not gonna lose you too, Tiger Claw."

I narrow my eyes at him. "But I'm nothing but a whore to you. You don't love me."

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish thrown out of water. "I-I…um, well. I feel very…strongly obligated to protect you. Don' know why. Just do."

I sigh and lean back against the wall. "So I'm no different than the other whores in the harem, like Rosalie or…perhaps Athenodora?" I watch him thickly swallow as he leans back in his chair. I smirk. "You seemed to be enjoying Athenodora quite a lot last night."

His face turns red in the darkness of the morning, but I can still see the color of his cheeks. "I tol' you I was sorry about 'dat," he tells me stiffly. "I shouldn't have done that. But the real point to it is that you're different than the other whores. I tol' you b'fore that I t'ought you were a challenge. The others are common lust. What I had with White Fawn was…love, I t'ink. Stupid, young love."

I stretch my legs out on the cold floor. "And with me…it's just a desire of the flesh?" I ask.

Jacob looks at me, contemplating things inside of his face. He's having a mental battle. "With you, Tiger Claw?" He clears his throat. "Both. I want you, but I also want you safe…in my arms. It's where you belong."

I'm surprised by what I hear, and what he tells me—how I belong in his arms, how he wishes me safe, how he wants me. "I don't…"

He cuts me off before I can say more. "You _do_."

I look down at my bare feet, my legs hidden beneath the white cotton of my nightgown. I do not look up at him when I speak. "You killed a man for me." I say, my voice breaking the deadly silence. "I never thought…"

He shakes his head, his hair falling into his eyes. It's wet, soft, and unbraided. Strands of black cover half of his face and I can only see one of his beautifully intense eyes staring back at me. It spills over his chest and down to his hips. "No, _never_," he says in sarcasm. "I'm the king of the barbarians. And I'm the nastiest fucker of em' all."

I'm silent as I stand, letting the chilly breeze float through the window blow my nightgown forward. "Not by what you've told me," I object. "You had a rough childhood."

He watches my every movement as I walk to the counter to pour myself a glass of wine. Jacob waits as I pour the red liquid into my goblet. "Weakness," he growls. "You're a weakness. I can't say no to you. If you were any other person, I'd have fucked you by now. Tell me somethin'—why are you so enticing?"

I take a sip of my wine. "You tell me," I retort. "I don't entice myself."

He smirks, winking at me. "You're all fire. Fire and fire usually don't balance each other out, but in this case, I think we'll manage. Our fire will spread."

I blush, my cheeks burning bright. I lift the goblet to my lips against and gulp down the rest. I hurriedly pour myself some more.

"Come sit." Jacob tells me, gesturing his lap. "Warm me with that fire o' yours."

I bring over my goblet. I'm hesitant to sit on his lap. "I'm fine, really—"

"Sit, or I'm making you sit."

I sit on the edge of his knee tentatively. Almost instantly, his bulky arms wrap around my torso and he tugs me roughly back against him. I almost choke on my drink, my arms and legs flailing. I'm lucky I didn't spill my wine.

I can feel his lips against my ear. He seductively nips my lobe. I'm uncomfortable, despite his warm skin and soothing pine scent. "You're wicked," he murmurs in my ear, his deep bass vibrating through my canals. "Take a little an' you turn away. You drivin' me insane."

He kisses my neck and I hiss, jerking forward, rubbing the tender spot. "I hurt you?" he questions. I point to the hand-shaped bruises on my neck.

"No, your brother. He choked me hard, remember?"

He grimaces and leans forward, pushing away my hair to examine the bruises. "They are healing. But not completely gone, yet." He kisses my neck, his lips much softer this time. He decides it's not enough for him. He roughly turns my face towards his, and crashes my lips down onto his.

I gasp, my eyes widening. It wasn't something that I was expecting to happen. When I pull away, his eyes are heavy lidded and his lips are swollen. He towers over me, his chin barely skimming the top of my forehead.

I splay my palm against his chest, shifting in his lap. "A heart for a heart," I whisper to him, blinking in the soft orange firelight. "Is that the game of a king?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Perhaps we should get some sleep now." He grabs the wine goblet out of my hand and sets it down on the table. Then he picks me up off of his lap and settles me into bed, laying his heavy body close next to mine.

I splay myself out on the pillow, my hair in my eyes. The fire still burns. He slips off his breechcloth and climbs into the bed, naked. He keeps to his side of the bed with the only thing touching me being his gentle but rough, callused fingers stroking my cheek.

I turn my head slightly, and look at him. "Goodnight," I whisper. He nods and rolls over onto his side.

My eyes are drifting shut when I hear him speak again. "A zuciya ga zuciya," he whispers in his deep, husky voice. My eyes peel slowly back open and a slow, honey-sweet smiles paints over my face slower than molasses.

And I don't even need to ask him to know what that means.

0o0o0o0o

**Hausa Dictionary:**

**Soyayya: **Love

**Ba**: No

**Lebe: **Lips

**Kiraya: **Breasts

**Dadi: **Pleasure

**A ****zuciya ****ga ****zuciya: **A heart for a heart

Yeah, so this chapter was kind of short. But it comes to you fast—in three days time! I was absolutely amazed by the number of reviews I got last time, so if you could do that I again I'd probably cry. Lol! I'd love to hear suggestions in the review box or just send them to me through PM. How should J and B's relationship be paced? Things like that. Love you all,

Courtney xx


	7. Claim

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note**: Hey y'all, thanks for the reviews—you're awesome people! I put some of the long translations right next to the sentences so you wouldn't have to scroll down the page every time you'd read a blurb and be like, "Well, what the hell's that mean?" There you are! Love you all.

**Chapter Seven: **_Claim_

He still sleeps when I awaken. I lean over him slightly, watching him as he sleeps soundly; the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his soft and labored breathing.

Suddenly, his hand flies up from beneath the covers and grabs me by the neck. I choke, my eyes widening. He doesn't fully see my face, since it's still dark in the early morning. His eyes blaze in the darkness, but as soon as I reach my hand out and touch his hot cheek, his realizes whom he's choking.

Jacob drops his hands, a look of sheer disgust on his face when he sees what he's done. I collapse to the bed and cough, grabbing at my neck. "Fuck," he curses. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I look up at him through the curtain of hair hiding my face, my brows crunched together. When I see the worried look on his face, I soften. "No, it was my fault. I startled you when you were sleeping."

He sits up and reaches for me. I unconsciously flinch when he touches me, pouring salt onto his wounds even further. He pulls away, his black hair framing his face. "I got to always be alert. I don' know if it's someone tryna kill me or not."

I nod my head, trying to get oxygen down my dented air canal. "That's fine, it's okay. I just…I don't know."

He frowns, rubbing his forehead with his sweaty palm. I have already dressed in emerald green silks today. These silks bare my back and drape loosely over my chest and legs. It's beautiful. I'm adorned with an emerald necklace as well.

Jacob takes one look at me and scratches the back of his head. "I haven't seen 'dat one in years," he murmurs. I'm puzzled, and he can see it on my face. "That was Gentle Raven's favorite one to wear."

I gasp and clutch at the silks. "Oh, I had no idea! I'll take it off straightaway—"

He holds up his hand. "Leave it on," he tells me. Then he smiles slowly. "I like it better on you, anyway."

0o0o0o0o

I step into the dining hall. I shoot Jacob a sideways glance and he nods at me in an assuring way. He wears a brown breechcloth woven with green lines. He strides into the hall and the whole table rises, cheering for their king. He grins widely, lifting his hands and allowing the praise to be heard.

He gestures for me to follow him. I slowly creep behind him, keeping my head down and my shoulders slouched. Jacob shoots me a look and I instantly straighten up. He does not like it when I slouch like a scared little girl.

I square my shoulders and tip my chin upwards. The men cast their glances at me before dropping their eyes back down to their plates as they sit. I really don't feel like sitting on Iron Coyote's lap again, so I stick as close to Jacob's side as possible.

He nods towards a chair right next to him. He gives the man occupying the seat a nasty look. "_Move_." The man picks up his plate and dashes out of the seat like he'd just seen a ghost.

I take the seat as he passes a plate of onion fried potatoes, eggs, and grizzly looking fried sausage links to me, then a full glass of goat's milk. "That was cruel," I tell him.

Jacob gives me a look, chewing on the end of a sausage link. "You want a seat or not?" he says somewhat rudely. I close my mouth and look at the plate. The food is steaming, and I'm very hungry.

"Where are the forks?" I question him. He gestures to the plate, picking up a potato piece with his fingers and popping it into his mouth. I frown and touch the food. It's too hot and I burn the tip of my finger. I yelp and yank my finger away quickly. I find myself grumbling to nobody but myself only a moment later. "Out of all the stealing you do, you couldn't steal a single fork?"

He hears me and grunts out his laughter. His lips quirk up at the edges and he shakes his head slowly. "All fire," he murmurs. "Tsarki wuta." Then he leans over to Drinks of Waterfall, who is sitting right next to him. "Shin ba ta wani abu abu?" _(Pure fire. Isn't she something else?)_

Drinks of Waterfall chuckles deeply and nods his head. "Ta na kamar wuta daga farko. Angelina bã kõme ba ne irin ta. Ita shiru da kuma jin kunya, amma tana da fasaha a dakin kwana." _(She was fire from the start. Angelina is nothing like her. She's quiet and shy, but she has skill in the bedroom.)_

He nods his head and laughs loudly. "Haka ne, dole ne ka son mace wanda ya san yadda za su gama da ku." _(Yes, you must like a woman who knows how to finish you.)_

Drinks of Waterfall smirks widely and nods his head. "Ta na da hanyoyin da karuwa, amma ba zan iya ganin ta ba a matsayin karami kasancewarsa ya fi I." He picks up an egg with his fingers and swallows it whole. "Babu karuwa da mine ya taka bi da ni da yadda mutum ke girmamawa a matsayin ta ba ni. Ina sha'awan cewa ... don haka sai na bi ta da kyau a samu." _(She has method and skill of a whore, but I cannot see her as a lesser being than I. No slut of mine has ever treated me with as much respect as she gives me. I admire that…so I treat her well in return.)_

Jacob nods his head slowly. "Tiger kambori ne wuta, amma ta amuses da ni kwarai." He looks at me and chuckles. "Ta na da ta'aziyya zuwa da kewaye." _(Tiger Claw is fire, but she amuses me greatly. She's a comfort to be around.)_

I have no idea what they're saying, but I know that Drinks of Waterfall is talking about Angelina. Jacob turns back to me and looks at my full plate. I stare at him. "Eat," he tells me sternly. I look back down to my plate and pick at a potato.

A second later, I find myself choking on bits of potato as his fingertips skirt across my thigh. He gives me a certain look that tells me to be quiet and not make a sound. I'm afraid that if I don't obey he'll be pissed. But I don't want to make a scene either.

I shakily pick up my drink as Jacob moves his chair closer to mine. His hands are hot on my thighs; they feel like they've been roasting over a hotplate for hours. I choke on my goat's milk when a long finger strokes up between my folds. I make a little noise, slightly slamming my glass down on the table and clenching my thighs tightly together.

It's a reaction of mine that comes with being touched. But clenching my thighs together traps his hand there, right at my _heat_. His eyes widen slightly at first, but then they become heavy-lidded with lust and a slow smile spreads over his face. Drinks of Waterfall looks at him funny, then glances over towards me.

I do my best to keep a straight face. But as his finger slides upwards, I lose my cool. My face turns bright red and my head slumps down a little as I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. Jacob's completely calm and collective at the head of the table. No one even suspects anything's going on.

He's touching me with one hand under the table, and eating with the other. He chats in Quileute to the other barbarians, laughing and shooting me seductive little side glances. I clench my thighs again when he tries to insert a finger inside of me.

Using his hand, he jerks his arm and roughly forces my thighs open. He jams a finger into me, hooking it perfectly and running it along my sweet spot. I cry out in pleasure rather loudly and stand up abruptly. I've frightened myself. The whole table is looking at me. Jacob's face is red—he's laughing—and he brings the finger that he'd inserted up to his mouth before sucking on it delicately.

I look away before I can become too flustered and smile meekly. "I spilled a little milk on my lap." I tell the whole entire table of about sixty men.

Jacob sits up in his seat a little, grabbing a piece of meat off of his plate and popping it in his mouth. "Ta ya zubar da madara," he translates for me. They all nod and resume eating. I'm horrified with myself, and my reaction to his evil doings. Trying to do that at the breakfast table is completely sinful.

After I've finished eating, I walk off into the other direction and out of the hall. Jacob calls out for me to wait for him, but I don't. I'm halfway into the west wing corridor when a heavy hand lands on my shoulder.

"T'ought I said to wait, huh?" he grumbles.

I fold my arms. "Why'd you have to touch me there in the morning? You made a complete fool of me in front of your most-trusted warriors."

"No," he corrects me. "_You_ made a fool of yourself. A woman that don't know how to conceal her pleasure is a woman deemed inexperienced. But luckily for you, soyayya, I plan to fix 'dat for you."

I gape at him. "You are _such_ a barbarian!"

He laughs. I don't realize that the term meaning to insult him is actually what he is. "Yes. The king of them, if you not already noticed that." His hair sweeps over his shoulders when he leans forwards to nuzzle my cheek with his nose. "But I know how to pleasure you like a **god**."

I close my eyes tightly and take a deep breath in through my nose. "I am absolutely _mortified_—"

"I need my hair braided," he blurts out, cutting me off in mid-rant. "I won't ask you 'cause you already a little singed. I'll get one of the other girls to do it for me."

He pecks me on the cheek.

Then leaves with a hard-on.

0o0o0o0o

I'm sitting here in the corner of the harem, pouting with my arms folded over my chest. When he said that he'd get one of the other girls to do it for him, he wasn't kidding; and he didn't mean maids. He meant the whores.

One sat on his lap, placing tender kisses to his neck while another fed him green grapes right off the vine and another fanned him, keeping him cool in the hot weather with a giant leaf. Rosalie was the one braiding his hair. Needless to say, I was jealous.

Angelina lay on her old cot near the back of the room, absently braiding her own hair while looking at a drawing of a barbarian man. To get my mind off of Jacob having fun with his ladies, I get up off of Alice's cot and make my way over to her.

She looks up as I sit down, smiling brightly. "Isabella," she greets. "I feel like I've not spoken with you in a millennia. How have you been managing?"

I cast a glance back at Jacob. Clair moves sensually in front of Jacob, baring her behind to him. He reaches out and gropes her. She bends over almost instantly, peering back at him through a curtain of black hair.

I huff a heated, "Fine" back at her. She weakly smiles and nods, letting the braid she'd been weaving fall out of her hair. "How are things with Drinks of Waterfall?"

"Who?"

I give her a look. "Your master," I say.

"Oh!" she exclaims. "I almost didn't recognize the name. I don't call him Drinks of Waterfall. He's given me the privilege of calling him by his commoner's name, Embry. It's easier for me to say. Especially in our love-making sessions." Angelina giggles at the last line. I want to roll my eyes, but I refrain.

I can't help but look back at Jacob. I notice that he has not smiled once while with those girls. Sulpicia offers a green grape. He takes it between his teeth, sensually rolling it in his tongue. Her eyes flutter and she smiles seductively.

I turn back to Angelina, even angrier than I was before. I pick up the sheet of papyrus lying on her bed and examine the charcoal strokes on it. It was a perfect picture of Drinks of Waterfall. I look up at her. The girl's got her lip pinned between her teeth as she looks up at me. "Did you draw this?" I question.

She nods her head quickly. "Do you like it? I drew the picture while I was in his room. He was drinking his wine in silence, so I took advantage of the time. He's just so beautiful, Isabella. I couldn't resist."

The charcoal strokes show the definition of his high cheekbones and the gentleness in his almond-shaped chocolate eyes. How his hair hangs into his eyes and falls out of his braid, how his full russet lips look when he smiles, and how he has a slight dimple in his chin.

She shifts in her seat. "I'm debating on whether or not I should show it to him. I'm afraid he won't like it…afraid he'll think me odd for drawing it. I do not know the customs here."

I set the drawing back down on her cot and nod my head. "Well, he ought to be called a fool if he doesn't like it." I smile at her and she smiles brightly back at me.

"Thank you," she whispers. "You've really put my mind at ease." Angelina picks up her drawing and folds it in half. When I look back at him, I find him staring right back at him.

He nods at me and beckons me to come over. I slide off of the cot and walk slowly over to him, my green silks kissing my thighs. "Get me some wine," he tells me. I frown. I had stupidly thought that he summoned me over to have me tend to him.

But no, he only wishes me to fetch him some wine. I nod my head solemnly, turning my back and heading out the harem door to the kitchens. My head slumps, and the corners of my lips droop into a frown. I drag my feet all the way to the kitchen. Anyone can see that I am upset, but no one asks.

In the kitchen, I see a familiar face. It is Black Bear, the young man that had defeated Gray Hawk at the shagali. He is alone, sipping from a glass of red wine at the counter. I stare at him for a moment, frozen in my place. Either he does not notice my presence or he just does not wish to acknowledge it.

I walk to the cupboards and fetch a cup from the shelf. When I look back at him, I find him to be staring straight at me. I jump and gasp, my hand flying to my fluttering heart.

Black Bear does not laugh like Jacob would have. Instead he reels back, mirroring the shock. He squints his eyes at me. He opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it right back up a moment later. I point to the glass of wine in his hand, and then to my cup. I almost do not notice how much my hand shakes.

"Giya?" he asks me. I think _giya_ is the word they use for wine. I nod my head. He goes to the door next to the crates of potatoes, carrots and green beans. It is the door to the ice-room, where the cold wine is stored along with other foods and drink.

He walks into the room, looking for the glass container of wine. He holds it up when he spots it. "Na same shi," he announces. "Da _giya_."

I set Jacob's goblet down on the countertop as Black Bear places the large class container of wine into my hands. The wine is cold, and it momentarily numbs my fingers. I set it on the counter next to Jacob's goblet and tug out the cork in the top. He is still standing there, watching me with his tender black eyes while he sips his own wine.

I tip the glass over and the red liquid pours into the cup until it is full. I sigh as I push the cork back into the top of the glass container. I meekly look at him and smile shyly. "_Na gode_," I whisper.

His eyes widen. He stands up straight after having been leaning against a crate of carrots and nods his head. "Na'am." He swallows a large lump in his throat. "_Ana jin harshena_?"

I have no idea what he's just said. And apparently he knows that, since the completely perturbed look on my face gives me away completely. I struggle to get my words out. "I…I do not…" I make frustrated gestures with my hands. "No speak. _Ba tare da_."

This time he chuckles, but only a little. "Ah. You only know the basic words, is that right?"

My mouth drops and I swear that my surprise and fluster can't get any worse than it already has. "You speak the Common Tongue as well?" I question.

He nods his head, his short braid sliding over his bared shoulders. He is well-defined, but lacks muscle mass, unlike Jacob. "I s'pose all of us are taught the common tongue from a young age. We need to know the words of the people that we invade."

I shake my head. "Language. Not words."

He nods his head. "As you can see, I'm still learning your…your…_langawidge. _That how you say it?"

I laugh. "Yes. It is close enough."

"_Me haka ke faruwa_?" (_What the fuck is going on?)_

The loud booming voice is enough to prick up hairs on the back of my neck. I instantly whirl around. Jacob's standing in the doorway, fuming mad and glaring daggers at innocent young Black Bear.

The younger boy cowers slightly and backs slowly away from me. Then Jacob turns his terrifyingly powerful gaze onto me. "I t'ought I tol' you to get me the wine!" he booms. His hair is braided and it spills over his waist.

I hold up the wine. My grip is so shaky that the red liquid inside of the glass graciously licks the sides of the goblet. "I-I did."

"Took you goddamn forever," he spits at me. I flinch back at the force of his words.

I go from being scared to being annoyed. "I was only gone for a minute."

"_Babu_," he hisses. "Longer than minute." Then he turns to Black Bear, cursing at him and puffing up his chest and making crude gestures with his hands. It looks to me like a territorial statement.

And then the next thing I know, I hear a sickening crack and I see Black Bear writhing on the ground with his hands cupped over his nose. Blood drips through his fingers and he squirms to try to get away from Jacob.

Jacob grabs Black Bear by the neck and prepares to deliver another blow, but I cry out, stopping him right in his tracks. "Stop! Stop hurting him. He did not touch me!"

He doesn't even spare a glance towards me when I say it. He only stalls his fist, holding it mere inches from Black Bear's face. The younger boy frantically looks at me, and then looks back to Jacob in fear.

I go to him, and lay a comforting hand on his heated shoulder. He looks back at me, his eyes animalistic and primal. "Please don't hit him," I whisper. "I promise, I _absolutely_ promise you, that nothing happened. He only showed me where the wine was so I could pour some for you."

He releases his hold on Black Bear and lets the boy drop to the ground in fear. His big hand comes up and runs his warm fingers down my skin. "You are not hurt then?"

I shake my head. "I never was."

Black Bear races out of the room with his wine like a scared little boy. Jacob completely ignores him, looking at his hands, which are stained with the younger man's blood. "I t'ink it's time."

I furrow my eyebrows together. "Time for what?"

"For the claim speech."

0o0o0o0o

He throws the bloody muscular organ down onto the floor. It lands in a 'squish' sort of sound, blood splattering everywhere. The crowd of nearly 200 men being to chatter in disgust, wondering whose heart lay on the floor there.

I sit on the pillow and try not to retch from the sight of the heart of a deceased man lying limply on the stone floors. It was a much prettier sight wrapped in the cloth. When Jacob begins to speak, I do not understand what he says. But my clever mind can infer.

"Wannan shi ne zuciyar mutum," he says, pointing at the red organ on the stone floor, leaking blood onto the floor. "An tsage daga kirji da mutum ya yi kokari ya sa hannunsa a kan wata mace. Kuma wãne ne mace? Ita Tiger kambori, na mace daga karfe mulkokin Forks." (_This is the heart of a man. It was torn from the chest of a man that tried to lay his hands on a woman. And who is the woman? She is Tiger Claw, __**my**__ woman from the iron kingdom of Forks.)_

The men in the room are silent, eyes widened, mouths shut, ears listening. Jacob continues with wrath in his eyes. "Ban yi imani da cewa na yi ya bayyana a fili cewa Tiger kambori ne mine. Na da'awar da su kamar yadda kaina, kuma wannan shi zai sa ta gaba daya kashe iyaka zuwa gare ku, al'aurar mata-ji yunwa bastards." (_I do not believe that I have made it clear that Tiger Claw is mine. I have claimed her as my own, and that makes her completely off limits to you cunt-hungry bastards.)  
_

I watch him as he steps down from his place at his throne and kicks the heart on the floor a few feet. He laughs menacingly. "Za ka iya ba shãfe ta ba tare da izinin ta, za ka iya magana ba mata, na iya ko kalle ta ba tare da izini na! Na yi tofi a kan maza da cewa suna da hadama kamar yadda ya dauki wani mutum mace a matsayin nasa. Idan ba ka so ka kawo karshen sama da ciwon zuciyar ka a kasa a can, sai na shawara ka zauna bãya. Na stomp a kan zukãtan mutanen da suka sa hannu a kan mace! _(You may not touch her without my permission, you may not speak to her, and you may not even look at her without my permission! I spit on the men that are so greedy as to take another man's woman as his own. Unless you want to end up having your heart on the floor there, I advise you to stay away. I stomp on the hearts of men who lay a hand on my woman!)_

His boot comes down heart on the floor. I look away as spurts of blood rocket out of the veins and openings in the muscular organ. "Idan ka sosai kamar yadda ya zo kusa da ita, zan sa sharar gida a gare ka! Zan kone ka innards kuma ka ciyar da dabbobin ka, mount kanka a kan wani gidan kamar boar ta, da kuma jefa ka fita zuwa cikin laka ga acid da ruwa a wanke kan ka Rotting jiki." (_If you so much as come near her, I will lay waste to you! I will burn your innards and feed them to your animals, mount your head on a post like a boar's, and throw you out into the mud for the acid rain to wash over your rotting flesh.)_

He picks up the crushed heart and throws it into the crowd. The men shuffle to get out of the way. "Kada a goge maganata kashe sauki. Duk da yake ina gane cewa wannan gargadi, dole ne ka gane cewa wannan ma barazana. Kada ka yi kuskure a gare ni, da na maza," he rants. "Na yi alkawari wadannan sakamakon a kanku!" (_Do not wipe my words off easily. While I realize that this is a warning, you must realize that this is also threat. Do not mistake me, my men. I promise these results upon you!)_

My heart is pounding and I find myself feeling ill and sweaty. He is done with his rant now. He summons one of his servants over to throw away the body part and clean up the floor. He walks back over to me and shows me the quick flick of his wrist. "Up," he says.

I stand and follow him out the door. As I leave, the men shuffle out of the way so quickly, acting like I've an extremely contagious disease that could kill them instantly. I don't know what Jacob's said to them, but his 'claim' speech was quite a passionate and angry one.

I race to his side. None of the men will look at me. I tap his arm. "Jacob." He does not answer. His face is red and he looks quite flustered and upset. "Jacob!"

He raises his hand as if he wants to slap me, but he stalls. "What did I tell you about calling me my commoner's name in public?"

My eyes are as wide as saucers and my lip is quivering. "I…I'm sorry."

His shoulders slump and his head ducks down into his hands. His thumbs rub his temples in circular motions. "No…no, it's alright. Just remember next time, yes?"

I nod my head. He curls a huge, bulky arm around my waist and pulls me along down the hallway. I lean into his embrace comfortably. "What did you tell them? I couldn't follow along."

He stares ahead, the corners of his lips fighting the urge to quirk up into a smile. "Just somet'in that needed to be said. That's all."

I frown, looking up at him. "Tell me."

"No."

"I demand you to tell me—"

"_You_ do not demand," he snaps. "_I_ demand. And _I_ demand that you ask no more questions."

Now he's only made me even more curious as to what he's been talking about. As soon as we're in his private chambers, I feel slightly more comfortable about being with him. I sit on his bed while he sits in his favorite chair, smoking a pipe. "I want you to teach me more," I say. "Please."

Jacob glances at me out of his peripheral vision. "Woman. _Mace_."

I nod my head. "Mace. How do you say, 'I am a woman' in your language?"

"Ni mace."

I stand from my seat and point to myself. "Ni…mace."

He nods his head. "Heart. Zu—"

"Zuciya," I blurt.

He looks at me in minor shock and smiles softly. "You learn quick."

I shrug my shoulders. "A zuciya ga zuciya."

He silences at my line. He knows what it means. "Thief," he continues. "Is _barawo_."

"And how do you say 'you are'?"

"Kai ne."

"Kai ne barawo," I tell him. "Ni mace. Ni…Tiger Kambori."

He smiles widely this time. "You shall be speaking fluently in no time. Most people say that Quileute is a difficult language for correct pronunciation, but you seem like a natural."

I shrug my shoulders. "Because I've you to help me with it. What better teacher is there than the king of the barbarians?"

He leans his chin into the palm of his hand, letting the pipe in his other hand die down a little. "Na'am."

"And that means yes." I tell him matter-of-factly, like he doesn't already know that.

"How about I quiz you?" he questions. I nod my head quickly in agreement. I'd love to test my knowledge. "Mace."

"_Mace_. Woman," I reply.

"Barawo."

"_Barawo_. Theif."

"Hannayen."

"Oh!" I exclaim. "This one is hands. It even kind of sounds like hands."

He nods his head. "Good. And zuciya?"

This word is my absolute favorite word of all. "Zuciya," I reply. "Is _heart_."

"Giya."

"_Giya_. Wine."

"Alright," he says, sitting up in his chair. "I've got another one. I want you to guess it."

I nod my head. "Very well. Tell me."

"Tawa."

I bite my lip in confusion. "Oh, but this could be any word in the world," I complain weakly. "Give me a hint at least."

He nods his head. "It rhymes with the word for _giya_."

Giya means wine. He wants me to find a word that rhymes with wine. Vine, swine, fine, line, whine, pine, dine, shine, shrine, sign, twine. And then a word pops into my mind quickly. I look up at him. A storm is brewing in the shadowy depths of Jacob's eyes. "Is the word _mine_?"

"Na'am."

I fold my legs over one another. "And how do you say, yours?"

"Naku."

I tuck a tendril of hair behind my ear. "I see," I whisper. "Naku da tawa?"

He lifts the pipe slowly back up to his lips, taking a long drawl of the smoke. He keeps his eyes on mine the whole time. He yanks the pipe away from his mouth as a dragon of smoke comes curling out from his lips. His eyelids flutter shut. "_Na'am_."

0o0o0o0o0

**Hausa Dictionary**

**Ta ya zubar da madara**: She spilled milk

**Na gode: **Thank you

**Ana jin hareshena?: **Do you speak the language?

**Mace**: Woman

**Ni** **mace**: I am a woman

**Zuciya**: Heart

**Barawo**: Thief

**Kai ne:** You are

**Kai** **ne** **barawo**: You are a thief

**Hannayen**: Hands

**Giya**: Wine

**Tawa**: Mine

**Na'am**: Yes

**Naku:** Yours

**Naku da tawa:** Yours and mine

Thanks for reading this week's chapter! As for an updating schedule, I can say that I really don't have one. I post when I have time and when I feel that a chapter's up to standards. I will try to have one up every week, though. Again, please **review** and tell me what you though and maybe what you'd like to see in the upcoming chapters. Happy summer to all those that are out of school. Here is my gift to you! (:


	8. Sin

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note**: My main inspiration for this chapter was the Blue Danube Waltz by Johann Strauss II. And as always, Game of Thrones. I watched all four seasons these past two weeks (I couldn't stop!). Khal Drogo really reminds me of Jacob! And to commemorate him before his death, I've decided to add in some GoT elements and some of my favorite bits. Thanks for the reviews, as well. As always, you guys freakin' rock. Onward!

**Character Resemblances if you've been rocky at all **(the ones that aren't listed are either the same or they have not been mentioned just yet)**:**

Dances With Wolves is **Jacob**.

Drinks of Waterfall is **Embry**.

Three Horses is **Paul**.

Iron Coyote is **Sam**.

Black Bear is **Seth**.

Gray Hawk is **Jared**.

Snow Lion is **Rachel**.

Gentle Raven is (was) **Rebecca**.

Emilia is **Emily**.

Cecilia is **Kim**.

Clair is **Claire** (Young, Quil's imprint)

Angelina is **Angela**.

Jezebel is **Jessica.**

**Chapter Eight: **_Sin _

Jacob had said to me that he needed to tend to some royal business. The royal business is also known as preparing for the next raid. The barbarians are relentless. He told me to go to the harem and stay there until further notice. He told me he doesn't like the idea of having me running rogue around the castle where the other men lounge around.

But I was quite fine with going to the harem. I had a few questions that I figured that some of the harem girls would understand and answer for me. When I walk into the room, I notice it's mostly empty. Rosalie sits on her cot, lazily staring out one of the large windows in the side of the wall. It is placed high, probably designed to keep the whores from escaping the harem.

Sulpicia, Didyme, Athenodora, Alice and Emilia are gone from the harem. Even Angelina is gone. Rosalie sits up from her place at the cot. "Hello," she greets softly. "I haven't seen your face in quite some time."

I blush and clasp my hands behind my back. "Nor have I seen you," I reply quietly. I look around the room. "I suppose it's a busy day since no one's here."

Rosalie nods her head, her blonde curls bouncing. "Oh, yes. The men have been very hands-on lately. I haven't gotten a break since…well, since fifteen minutes ago when Three Horses dumped me back in here."

I sit down on the edge of her cot. She moves over and makes room for me. "I thought Three Horses had a wife," I whisper. "Isn't she the king's older sister?"

"Snow Lion?" Rosalie questions. I nod my head. "Oh," she laughs. "Snow Lion is very pregnant right now and Three Horses has been _selfishly deprived_ of cunt for a while since her bits are hurting."

I find myself frowning. Three Horses should be by his wife's side, comforting her and helping her through the painful pregnancy. He should not be in the arms of another woman while she's lying in bed in pain.

"Quite honestly," Rosalie begins. "I believe that he should be at home, by her side instead of fucking me here but men do whatever they wish to and fuck whomever they please. His wife is almost certainly ready to pop any moment now."

"Oh my," I reply. "Who's there with her?"

Rosalie shrugs her shoulders. "Probably some midwives and close female friends. Men aren't allowed into the birthing rooms."

I cock my head to the side in confusion. "I'm not quite sure I follow. Men are not allowed to see their children birthed?"

Rosalie laughs, her green eyes flashing with mirth. "No, silly," she laughs. The way she goes about it makes me feel like a complete idiot. "Men in this kingdom have never witnessed the birth of their children. It's always been a custom…and I'm sure men would not want to see that anyways."

I frown again. "Men back in my kingdom would be at their wife's bedside, comforting her through the process. I suppose it's horrid not having your lover there with you."

"Correction," Rosalie interjects. "It's not horrid, it's the barbarian way."

I tap my fingers on the cot, chewing my lip softly. A question has been inside of my mind for a while now and I don't quite know how to ask it. I know that we are in a harem, the girls are bedded often and most times quite quickly. "And what happens to a woman if she becomes impregnated?" I question.

Rosalie leans against the back of her pillow, leaning her head against the stone wall. She looks at me from under her blondish-brown lashes. "Do you know how many men have illegitimate sons and daughters? About every single one of the king's warriors have at least one or two. The women birth the children and then care for them on their own. That, or they leave them."

I scoot closer to her on the cot, my brow furrowed. "What do you mean? The mothers leave their children?"

She sighs. "You cannot expect much more from these people," she explains to me. "They know not of the customs and the so-called humane things from back in our kingdom."

I'm disgusted, and all I want is to rid my mind of it all. I find myself already longing for him. "Tell me all you know about our king."

Rosalie leans over to Alice's little sunny haven where her cot and her lush healing plants were kept and plucks a ripe, red berry off of one of the vines. "He's hard," she simply says, popping the fruit into her mouth and letting the color bleed onto her pale lips. "He's a very difficult person to deal with in general."

_Hard_ doesn't quite match my mind's image of Jacob when I think of him. I think of him as kind, gentle and…well, different from the others. "Expand on that," I tell her.

She pops another berry into her mouth, offering the extra one she had to me. I turn her offer away. She clears her throat before beginning to speak again. "Well, whenever I tried to…you know, get it up, it would take me like forever. I'd have to be really, really naughty for him to want me. And god, he wouldn't take me unless I begged."

My eyes widen. He doesn't have a problem getting erections when he's with me, and I don't even have to do anything to make him aroused. He just…_does_. "Tell me more."

Rosalie sighs. "He's a good lover. He's smooth and fluid in the bed, and I'll have to say Isabella, that he's the most attractive man I've ever had the duty of bedding. No man back in my kingdom could have even come close to his beauty. But he sure does have a flaring temper. He rarely has bursts of rage, but when he gets angry, he lashes out instantly like a wild fire and burns everything around him. He's nothing like Iron Coyote. Dances With Wolves is strong."

This time I take the berry she offers me. I bite into it and the sweet and bitter taste floods my mouth. "I have another thing to ask. What is a claim speech?"

She gasps loudly and the berry that she was holding falls out of her palm and onto her sheets. "Why? Has someone made a claim speech on you? Isabella, tell me. You must tell me now."

I hold up my hand to cease her chatter. "Alright! But you must tell me what a claim speech is first so that I might tell you whether or not the someone has made a claim speech on me."

Rosalie sighs. "It's really rarely ever done, so I doubt it could be…the real thing. Anyways, it's when a man chooses his woman and gathers his peers and all men that could pertain to Bella in a room and claims his love, protection and ownership over the woman. Usually the speech is passionate, but often mistaken for angry and forceful with words. She is his, and to all others, she is referred to as his imprint."

I cock my head to the side. "Imprint?"

"Yes," she gestures roughly with her hands. "It's called an imprint because once he claims her as his own, she can love no other. These people religiously follow their beliefs, and how they once ran as brothers amongst wolves in ancient times. And once a wolf claims his mate, their together for life. So the elders made up a rule that if a man wanted and loved a woman enough to claim her, he could make her his imprint. And they'd be together forever. Most men do not. But the tradition is not yet dead; some still do."

What she's just describes really sounds like my earlier half of the day. Jacob's speech was angry. He kept glancing back at me and I knew that he was talking about me. And the heart of that man that tried to rape me, still lying on the floor, was still a reminder.

I swallow thickly and take a drink out of Rosalie's glass. Suddenly, Alice and two other girls burst in through the door. Alice is elated and her hair is disheveled. "Sannu, ladies!" she squeals.

Emilia lumbers after her, her lip split but a smile still on her face. Alice welcomes her over to her healing station with the plants, water, and healing creams and potions. She slops some yellowish cream over Emilia's split lip and kisses her cheek. "It should be good as new in no time at all," Alice tells her. "I understand that Iron Coyote can be rough."

The sleek woman smiles softly. She is beautiful, with soft curves and a friendly glance and smile. She is foreign and exotic and I have never seen someone quite like her. "Iron Coyote loves me," she stubbornly replies. "And I will unconditionally love him back."

I frown. How could someone as beautiful and kind as Emilia love a beast like him? "He doesn't deserve your love," Sulpicia says for me. "If he beats you, he deserves no woman's love."

Emilia flops down on her cot. "Oh, but rough sex is what really gets him going. I'd do anything for him."

"And that's what makes you a fool," Cecilia chimes in. The other harem girls laugh at Emilia's scowl.

She immediately lashes out. "You ought to just admit that you're just jealous because Iron Coyote's never shown any interest in you at all—"

Cecilia throws her hands up in the air. "Yes! As if I would want that man's dirty cock stuffed up my most sensitive parts with his brutal hands around my neck. You are a half-wit for not seeing it!"

They both lunge at each other, but Cecilia is yanked away by Sulpicia, and Emilia by Alice. Rosalie stands up on her cot. "Do you both even realize what you're fighting about? We shouldn't waste our time and friendship on a _man_. Especially not Iron Coyote."

Emilia stamps her foot on the ground like a little, spoiled child. "You are—"

"Hush," Rosalie growls. "No more out of you. I haven't got time for arguments about how innocent our prince is, because we all know he's the exact opposite of angel. It's just you that doesn't see that yet."

Sulpicia snorts, staring at her blunt fingernails while lounging on her cot next to Cecilia. "She'll see it soon enough."

Emilia yanks Alice's hands off of her and storms off to her cot to pout. Rosalie sits back down and grabs back the glass of water that I'd been holding stiffly. "That's _mine_," she hisses at me before smiling triumphantly. "You're too easy, Isabella."

Alice looks up from where she stood at her plant table, her spectacles shining brightly in the sun. "Who's been eating my berries?" she demands. Rosalie smiles, revealing glossy red stained lips. Alice shakes her head in disappointment. "I should have known. They could have been poisonous, Rosalie. You're quite lucky."

She scoffs at Alice. "And why would you have poisonous berries on display in the harem?"

Alice narrows her eyes at Rosalie from beneath the rim of her glasses. "You never know what I might need for my concoctions."

The blonde drapes herself across my lap, spilling a little bit of water on her sheets. "Just tell me if the damn things are poisonous, will you?" Rosalie's hair tickles my thighs. She looks up at me and smiles, her tiny fingers beginning to toy with the silk that I wear. "I like this fabric."

Alice sets another pot on top of her worktable. "No," she announces to Rosalie. "The berries weren't poisonous. But if you try eating my ingredients again, I'll be sure to put the poisonous ones out on display."

Rosalie ignores her. "So," she begins. "You never even told me about the claim speech and all of that mumbo-jumbo. What's the deal?"

The door opens behind me, distracting me from Rosalie's chatter. It's him. The blonde girl instantly peels herself off of my lap and sits up straight. He looks straight at me and cocks his head out the door.

I stand up. I know that he means for me to follow him.

0o0o0o0o

He's brought the dinner into his room that night. It's dark outside and I'm hungry, but I'm also confused. Jacob's sitting at the table in the far right corner of his room with his face illuminated only by the fire.

I slowly walk to join him there, staring down at the plate of simmered, smoked meats and bread dipped in some kind of sauce. There's a goblet of wine in front of me. I look up at him and he just stares, waiting for me to sit.

He picks up a chicken leg and bites into it. He looks at me again. My eyes fly down to my plate. My fingers skirt over the piece of bread and I lift it up to my mouth, taking a small bite of it. It's not bad.

When I look back to him, I find him staring straight at me again. My face grows red in the firelight. "You have not spoken to me in over an hour," he says between bites of chicken. "What's the matter?"

I swallow the bread and sigh, brushing my hair behind my ear. "I want to know about that speech," I tell him. "I'm curious about it and you've given me nothing whatsoever."

He picks up his wine and takes a large gulp. "'Cause it ain't sometin' I feel that I need to explain right now," he protests, his voice husky and deep. It vibrates through my ears, filling the quiet room, overpowering the soft crackle and pop of the fire.

I frown and prod at my food with the tip of my finger. "Na riga ya sani," I tell him. "Amma ni ina son ka ka gaya mani da kanka." _(I already know. But I wanted you to tell me yourself.)_

He looks up at me, the chicken in his hand falling back onto the plate. "Who taught you?" I shrug my shoulders, refusing to tell him a thing. He grits his teeth, shaking his head and sighing. "Who told you?"

I groan loudly, my head falling backwards. "Oh, it doesn't _matter_ who told me! It was you that _didn't_ tell me." I push away from the table and go to stand by the fire. He's after me as soon as I step foot in front of the fire. He comes up and stands behind me, his heavy hands resting on my shoulders.

I flinch away from his touch. "What makes you think that I am yours?" I hiss at him. "I have known you for not even a month. Yet you're claiming me as your forever mate, your…your imprint, and you didn't even tell _me_?"

When I turn around to stare at him, I find that his features are solid and unmoving and that he is cold. "You are mine," he hisses right back at me. "Remember _taka_? You even said it yourself, little one."

"How am I yours when you don't even love me?" I ask him, my voice level raising an octave. "You only care about fucking me."

He looks at me like I've just grown another set of eyes on my forehead. "No," he manages to spit out. "Not true!"

I tug at the ends of my hair in exasperation. "Yes, it is true. I guarantee that once you fucked me you'd be done with me and leave me for the others. I'm just a challenge." Tears sting at my eyes because I know it's true. "I'm just a toy and you're a child that will play with me while I'm interesting and new, but once I'm used you'll just throw me away."

"Never," he hisses. "I'd never."

I don't listen to him. "No, that's just how you are."

"Then why'd I make that speech, huh? If I didn't want you for the rest of my life, why did I claim you?" His voice is louder than mine and cuts me off during mid rant. His bulky arms encircle me, picking me up off of my feet as he carries me over to the bed. I struggle, but I'm pitifully weak against his strong hold.

He throws me down on the bed, pinning my arms above my head and rolling his hips onto me. I gasp. "Let me up, Jacob!"

He just stares down at me with dark, black eyes. His hair spills over his shoulders and frames my face like a curtain. All I can see is him; I'm trapped, his eyes scanning me like a predator does its prey. "No," he replies thickly, confident and tough. "I don't t'ink you realize the extent of my want, my _need_ for you."

He ducks his head down and kisses me softly on the side of my neck. I try to pull myself away from him but he keeps me right where I am. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses over my collarbone, one hand keeping my own hands pinned to the bed and one hand resting on the side of my stomach.

"I don't understand it," I explain to him. "I don't understand what an imprint is." Even though I had just heard the explanation from Rosalie, I want to hear it from his mouth.

He stares at me from under his thick black lashes. "Means that you are mine for all eternity. I chose you because you are different from the rest. I told you that I'd wait for you. I've never done that for any woman before. I take them, and like you said, I throw them away like a child does a toy. But not you, never you. And I never knew why I felt like 'dis towards you 'till I went an' ask'd the elders and they tol' me that it was, in fact, sometin' different."

He lets me pull one of my hands out of his grasp to reach up and trace my fingertips over the contoured lines of his prominent cheekbones. He leans his face into my palm. "I'm glad it was you," I tell him. He looks a little confused, so I go into more depth. "I mean, I wouldn't want to have been kidnapped or held hostage by anyone else."

He chuckles, the ends of his lips slowly stretching into a smile as sweet and soft as the springtime. "That's good. I couldn't ask for a better prisoner."

Jacob rolls off of me and onto the bed beside me, laying his palms flat across his muscled abdomen. "How we always end up like this, huh? Mad and then okay. I can't ever stay angry wit' you. Dunno why."

I prop myself up on my elbow. "Yana da ... _saboda_ ... um, ni mai _kyau_." _(It is…because…um, I am good.)_

He looks at me astonishment before breaking into a smile. "How did you learn so quickly?"

I lean my cheek against my palm. "It's called, a lot of free time in Jacob's room with books."

"You want to learn," he states. "That's something different."

"Yes," I agree. "While I've got nothing else better to do while you lock me away in my _tower_ for hours, I snoop and read your books."

He doesn't at all seem bothered by the fact that I go through his books while he's away talking about the raids with his men. "You like to read?" he questions.

I nod my head. "Yes," I say again. "I've always loved reading."

"Book," he says in a gruff voice. "_Liffatin_. Can you repeat that back to me?"

"Liffatin," I repeat. "That's a beautiful word. You know, back in my kingdom there was a little shop called a library and it harbored many, many books. Some were sad, some were happy, some were full of action and tales of courageous princes and princesses, fictional tales of fire-breathing dragons and faeries and demons. A book is where imagination takes flight."

He seems interested in what I have to say. "They are kept at…library?" he questions. I nod my head. He looks back up at the ceiling. "Don't have no library. But I got books. Parchment scrolls."

I curl up into a ball on Jacob's bed, nestling my head against the soft pillows whilst he stretches out like a young lion in tall, dry grass. "Interesting."

0o0o0o0o

I've not yet finished my dinner. He's lying in bed waiting for me to join him there. I can't help but think that he feels more love than he's actually shown me. I'd never been shown such gentleness from a man back in my kingdom—and the ironic thing about Jacob was that he was the _king_ of the barbarians. And gentle was the exact opposite of a barbarian…supposedly.

"I want to be your teacher," he says. I turn around and face him, mindlessly chewing on a piece of chicken. He narrows his eyes slightly. "I want to be the one to show you. I want to show you how to touch a man properly."

I glance at him. "And when did you lose your virtue?"

He pauses before answering. "Twelve."

I choke on the wine gliding smoothly down my throat. "Twelve? And how old was the whore?"

Jacob starts to smile a wickedly mischievous smile. "Pandora was 27 at the time." The look of disgust on my face makes him throw his head back onto his pillow and laugh a great, loud, hearty laugh. My eyes pop with amusement. "But on a more serious note, you're a complete budurwa, even virgin to your own pleasure."

I shake my head and try to explain. "Where I am from, women and girls are not taught of their pleasures until they are married. Pleasure was forbidden, especially for women. If a young girl was caught doing away with herself, she'd be beaten."

The look of repulsion on his face tells me that he obviously does not agree with the rules back in my kingdom. "Your people act like pleasure is a sin."

I nod my head. "Oh, but it is a sin."

He laughs, drumming his long fingers on the wooden bedpost. "Then I have sinned, and sinned, and I will continue to sin." Jacob looks at me to see my expression, to tell what I am thinking. My face is tinged red with a soft blush that has creeped up on me when I was least expecting it. "What? It's not like you don't know that I touch myself. I found myself to be doing it more often when you tease me like this."

I turn away from, trying to swallow the thick lump in my throat. He sits up from his lounging position against the downy silk pillows and moves to sit beside me. "Does this make me less appealing to you, Tiger Claw?" he asks, brushing a wisp of chestnut hair behind my ear. "Does the thought of blood, and sex, and sin repulse you?"

When his warm hand comes down on my bare knee, I pick it up and cradle it in my lap. I absently look down at it, chewing my lip in thought. "No," is my conclusion. I glance up at him and I find that he appears to be a little relieved. "A man without blood and sin on his hands is a man that has not lived."

He slips a finger under my chin and turns my face towards his slowly. His eyes are full of passion and want. But beneath the tough and possessive demeanor, he's so much more. He's sweet, caring, and all he wants is someone to stand by his side- and the person he wants is apparently me.

So when he kisses me, I do not pull away or resist him in any manner. It pleases him. He swipes his tongue across my bottom lip before smacking one more kiss, sealing the deal, before leaning back against the bed. "I'll always wait for you...no matter how long it may take. But I doubt you'll be able to stay away from my charm."

"Well, I…"

"You can't resist me forever, Isabella," he tells me, his eyes locked on the ceiling. "This level of lust for someone has crossed the line between bearable and unbearable. Between resistant and irresistible."

I blink my eyes stupidly at him. He pats the place beside him. "Come," he orders. "And sleep."

0o0o0o0o

I wake up in the middle of the night, a cold gust of air hitting my bare back. The back of my nightgown must have been unlaced somehow. I sit up in bed slowly, making sure not to wake him up.

Except for the fact that he was not there beside me.

I don't quite know why, but my heart begins to race, and my eyes search for him frantically in the dark. Where would he be in the middle of the night? Does he leave all of the time?

I push the covers off of me and slide out of the bed. The fire is nearly dead, but I can still see around in the room. Jacob is not in the room. The door is cracked open slightly, but the hallway is pitch black. Where could he have gone?

I grab one of the scented wax candles off of Jacob's jewel table and bring it to the dying fire. I thrust it into the embers, trying to get it to light. But the fire's bright glow sinks into the logs before a spark can touch the tip of the candle. "No!" I hiss softly in the night.

Before I know it, I'm surrounded by darkness. I sigh somewhat loudly, my great whoosh of breath coming down onto the tip of the candle and igniting a nearly-dead spark that has graced me with its presence.

I hold it up into the night. It flickers and sways on the tip of the candle, duly illuminating areas around it. It is better than nothing. I make my way to the door, careful not to trip over anything and make a loud ruckus.

The door creaks when I push it open. I clench my eyes shut and sigh. Any loud noises could give me away. Once the door is pushed wide enough open for me to slip out of it, I dart down the darkened hallway.

I turn a corner, my bare feet slapping gently against the cold stone floors. And finally, at the end of a long, empty hallway, I see a door cracked open with a great firelight emitting from it. I walk slowly. I still do not know if he is there, or if he is alone and wanting my company.

I'm at the door. Both my mind and heart is racing, my hand shaking as it reaches out to push at the wooden door. He is laying on the couch by a great stone fireplace. My eyes widen at the sight of books and books lined up on dusty wooden shelves.

His back is to me; I cannot see his face or what he is doing. I presume him to be sleeping. His head lays on the armrest of the couch and one arm hangs off of the edge. His eyes are shut.

My heart beats faster as I creep forwards and examine him. He's breathing heavily for someone who sleeps, and it interests me. And then I notice something that hadn't been noticed before. His breechcloth lay on the floor beside the place where I stand.

Leaning forward, I can a chest who muscled contours are sketched in flickering shadows. He is not sleeping. My mind begs me to look away, but my eyes stay locked on the scene before me.

His hand runs up a long column of hard, swollen flesh to fondle the tip before his fingers skate back down in a dragging stroke. Heat rises into my cheeks and bursts like summer fire-works, spreading the lustful embers throughout my body.

He opened his mouth to taking shaking breaths, his lips trembling as his hand worked at his manhood ferociously. There he was, in his most vulnerable state. She slowly crept backwards until she was behind the safety and comfort of the door.

The sound of slick flesh against his hand couldn't be heard before she'd stepped into the room, but it now seemed to be magnified in the hollow of her ear. And he moaned, no more than a quiet, wispy sound carried on the wind, but it sounded like a scream.

His hair spills over the edge of the couch's armrest as he lays his head back, eyes squeezed tightly shut, forehead lined with beads of sweat. He pants quietly over lax, sensual lips. The rough, physically-inclined king of the barbarians can't look more vulnerable, stripped of his weapons and his possessive and inhumane conduct right down to the flesh.

Jacob's skin is tough and thick, thick enough to keep it all in; even the gentleness I know that he harbors. It is a glimpse below many layers of that thick, impenetrable skin to the artless yearning of a lonely soul seeking comfort and personal pleasure at his own expense.

His movements speed up, fingers pulling at the base of his cock, then swirling back up to the tip, which was already leaking from the immense pleasure he was giving himself.

My womanly parts are slammed with heat as they tug at the end of my white flannel nightgown. And for the first time ever, I touch myself with the intention of seeking pleasure and delivering it upon myself.

Faster he goes, the muscles in his chest and abdomen twitching and bulging as he lifts his pelvis to meet his hand. "Fuck," the crude word falls from his lips softly. I'm entranced by the way his hand moves up and down that beautiful, tall column of flesh, the way his face contorts in pleasure in the firelight.

My fingers work at myself quickly, amazed by the feeling that it gives me. _"__Na mace,__"_ he moans. "Is'bella." I refrain from gasping, but I know well enough to know that he's thinking of me while in the midst of doing that sinfully, sinfully seductive thing.

I moan quietly and lean my head against the wall, letting myself go. I hear him grunt, then cry out a sticky white fluid pours all over his chest. I turn away before he can realize I'm there and rush back down the hallway.

I lay in bed waiting for him to return. I face the wall so that he may not see my face and wrap myself in bed sheets. The door opens softly a moment later. I can see him out of my peripherals, wiping himself down and sliding into bed, completely naked.

Guilt wracks my body. I shouldn't have been looking upon him, and I shouldn't have touched myself. But it felt so good to feel like that, to feel..._sinful_.

0o0o0o0o

Thanks for reading! I hope you all liked this chapter.** Review **and tell me what you thought. I love hearing feedback. Now…off to cheer practice in the hot weather. * sigh * Love my readers (:

Courtney xx


	9. Wet

Sinful Seduction

**Author****'****s Note:** Some reviewers point it out to me that I changed perspectives in the last chapter. Yup, that's what happens when I don't have my morning coffee...haha, sorry about that. Thanks for all of the awesome reviews, too. And by the way, na mace means 'my woman.' Onward!

***Portrayals: **As for Taylor, I think of Taylor, but a lot of you have been throwing around the Jason Momoa name. God do I love me some Jason Momoa, but picture whatever your heart desires! BUT, I really don't think Kristen suits this Bella, so I've chosen Emmy Rossum, in my mind, to play the part.

**Chapter Nine**: _Wet_

I meekly begin to dress myself in front of him. His wandering eyes roam my body like a starved beast that has not feasted in a year. The red silks are what he's chosen for me to wear, along with some pretty golden chains.

He ties his breechcloth around his waist and steps out into the sunlight. My face reddens instantly when I realize that he's looking straight at me. After last night, I've not spoken a single audible word to him. The way he stares makes me feel heated and weak.

But he only shakes his head and smiles, like he knows something I don't and he's getting a huge kick out of my squeamish behavior. I don't like it. He goes around behind me to help me pin up the silk around my back. I let him do so without fidgeting or flinching when his warm fingertips skirt across my skin. I sweep up my hair and he pins the soft, mango-colored silk up with a shiny golden pin.

He pulls on his deerskin pants then as I go about fixing my unruly curls, which are particularly tightly spiraled in the morning time. Sitting down at Jacob's table, the one with the great mirror propped up against the wall, I take my thick hair into my hand and I begin to braid it back tightly so it's out of my face. I tie the end of my braid with a piece of string.

I frown once I realize that a piece of my hair has come loose and hangs out of my braid oddly. I reach for one of the golden pins on the desk, but my clumsy hand knocks it off the desk. I foolishly dive for it with the belief that I could have caught it before it hit the ground, but instead I tumble out of my chair and to the floor with a thump.

When I look up, he's right there to see if I'm all right. When I look up, I'm face to face with the body part that had sweetly and sinfully haunted my dreams last night. He is not yet aroused, but even in his calm state the man is still impressive. "Gods, woman," he says. "You are clumsy, like infant."

Jacob grabs my arm and helps me to my feet slowly. I've got the pin tightly in my hand, but my grip falls loose when I see his face. I have seen his face countless times and realized his sheer beauty, but I don't think it has truly yet occurred to me that I am lucky; he is a man of splendor and handsomeness and masculinity. The deep cleft in his chin and the way his cheekbones are contoured adds to it.

I am still wobbly, like a newborn calf. I nearly face plant into him when my foot catches on the end of my discarded nightgown, the one that I'd carelessly thrown into the corner only a few moments before. He catches me, like he always does. Burying his nose into my hair, he intakes my scent through his nostrils.

"Mmm," he murmurs. "You wear new fragrances?"

I'm not quite sure what he means at first. But as soon as I see the mischief in his eyes and the way his lips are curled smugly. "Um…_oh_," I place my palms flat on his chest and push away from him. The wetness between my legs only intensifies. "You get away from me."

He only laughs, pulling me closer towards him. He plants a kiss below my ear before pulling my earlobe between his teeth and nibbling gently. "I'm ready when you are, little one. Kawai kuke bukatar tambaya." _(You only need to ask.)_

I huff and go back to sit at the table. Looking into the mirror, I pin back the unruly curl and secure it into place. He goes to the table, where a bowl of red paints lays and slops some markings over his copper skin.

I look over at him as I'm placing the crystal headdress over my braid. "Raid today?" I ask him.

0o0o0o0o

Breakfast goes on normally without him touching me from underneath the table. He left me eating while he talked on with his men. I know the language, but not well enough to be able to understand slang and full sentences of it.

Now we are at the stables, getting ready to ride out to some secret place on the backs of our horses. I remember my Rana Fashe, Daybreak, and eagerly mount her. He has already mounted his black stallion Tsakar Dare, or Midnight, and is riding out ahead of me.

The day is bleak and the clouds aren't quite visible, but it is unforgivably scorching hot outside. I lightly nudge Rana Fashe into a canter before galloping to catch up with Jacob and his horse. He sits proudly upon his horse, gazing out into the tree line with that same egotistical look on his face.

"Where are we going?" I ask him. His men are watching us from behind the corner of the castle, interested in what we're doing and where we're going. I see Iron Coyote sneering at me from behind a tree. He makes a kiss at me, and I glare right back at him.

Jacob just ignores his brother as well as the other onlookers, riding out into the day. "You'll just have to see when we get there," he remarks. I frown, and ride on ahead. "Why do you ride fast when you don't even know where you are going?"

I look over at him in wonder. "Well…perhaps I am urging you to move faster. The eyes of your men are unyielding; they look upon us both with a certain unwelcome watchfulness."

With this, Jacob turns around and yells something at his men that's pretty much unintelligible to me. They jump a few feet into the air before turning on their heels and running off. I laugh; they look like a bunch of scared children that just got caught in the act of stealing a biscuit.

He turns and looks at me, nodding his head towards the door. "O-kay. Let's go." He digs his heels into Tsakar Dare's black belly and speeds the horse off into the woods.

"H-hey!" I call. I nudge Rana Fashe's belly with the tip of my leather shoe and off she runs into the distance, taking me with her. I hang onto the reins tightly as she gallops into the trees, jumping over fallen trees and skillfully dodging the great thorny bushes growing in the middle of the forest. My horse follows Jacob's great black horse.

The wind runs its fingers through my hair and kisses my cheeks with a light breeze that refreshes me greatly in the hot weather. Jacob's horse runs fast, and with that, it makes him look stealthy, strong, and nimble. For once, I consider that I might be lucky to have him as a master.

_But he's a thief_, I think. _Why do I feel this way about him?_

As soon as we reach a certain point in the forest, he gets off his horse. I start to slip out of my saddle as well, but he holds up a hand to stop me. "No, stay on." He grabs the reins of Tsakar Dare then walks over and grabs Rana Fashe's reins. My horse whinnies and bucks, but the look she's given by Jacob instantly makes her calm down. He looks up at me and says, "Close your eyes until I say to open them."

"Why can't I just—"

"Do as I say." The voice is so dominating over my whiny, submissive tone. I silence and close my eyes. He pulls my horse through the forest. I sit blindly on Rana Fashe's saddle, rocking with her movements.

We walk like this for a few minutes before my horse stops in her tracks. "Can I open them now?" I ask eagerly. I don't hear anything but rustling at first. My eyes fly open instantly and I'm staring straight at him. He's taking his hair out of his braid, with his back facing to me.

He nods his head. "Yes." There's a single feather strung in his long black hair; it's a beautiful red one, probably plucked from the backside of a cardinal bird. I take a look at my surroundings. I'm blown away.

My mouth falls open at the sight. A giant waterfall surrounded by trees and wildflowers and weeds sprouting out of rocks like little bursts of happiness. Birds sing in the trees loudly, the music of locusts and cicadas ring in my ears. "This is beautiful!" I cry.

He smiles a slight smile, the corner of his mouth peaking up at the end. "This is my secret place in the woods," he says. "I found it and I claimed it. See the trees?" I look around at some of the trees by the waterfall. They had claw marks in them as well as a bit of animal blood splattered on it.

Jacob places his heavy hands on my wide set hips and lifts me down from my horse. I stand there arranging myself as he ties the reins of the horses to a tree branch. The grass is tall; it's almost to my knees.

He turns away from me and starts towards the great pool of water that sits below the waterfall. I start to follow him, but then I instantly stop. He reaches around his back and unties his breechcloth and slips out of his pants, throwing them into the tall grass.

Mystified but intrigued, I watch him as he takes a running start before diving gracefully into the water. He emerges a moment later, shaking his hair out aggressively, like a dog. He smiles and chuckles softly. "Water good."

"The water is good," I correct him. He gives me a look before mumbling something in Quileute right back at me—it's probably insulting to my culture, but I'm used to his rudeness by now. I stand back a few feet, sitting on a rock so the cold water doesn't splash at me.

He watches me from in the water. "Come in," he suggests. "An' swim wit' me." I shake my head and rub my arms.

"No," I tell him.

He frowns. "Come in," he says a little louder, and with a little more force.

"No," I tell him in a sterner tone. "I don't swim. And it's not proper for a lady to be swimming with a male, especially in his naked form. Back where I come from, people would talk generously about this if they caught us."

He sneers at me, lifting his upper lip in disgust. "Fuck _pro-per_, you in barbarian country now. There ain't no rules here unless I say so. Come in." I shake my head again, moving back on the rock. He sighs and swims out into the pond. "Guess I'll just have fun all by myself."

I don't say anything. I just watch as he moves around in the water with surprising agility, his muscles rippling with each inch he swims. I sigh and lay back against the warm, flat rock that I'm currently sitting on.

Looking straight up, I see white puffy clouds rolling and tumbling over themselves in a clear, cerulean sky. Trees overflowed with fresh green leaves sway with the passing breeze that runs through the forest with youthful dexterity.

I don't hear Jacob splashing around in the water, his breath or even feel his presence. I sit up abruptly and look around. He's gone. He's not out of the water, but it in—and he must be drowning.

I don't know how to swim but I can't risk him dying at my hands, so I strip myself of my silks as fast as I can and go to the water's edge in a panic. "Oh, _fuck_ _me_…Jacob!" I swear that my heart's never pounded faster. I look around in the water, searching for a heavy body floating near the bottom of the clear water. But I see absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, I feel a wet, large hand on my arm, tugging me in. And before I can even register what's happening, I'm plunging beneath crystal clear waters. I emerge, screaming, with my hair stuck to my face.

And when I see him, I pound him like he's a punching bag. "You scared the absolute hell out of me! Oh, I hate you Jacob, I hate you…"

He fends my blows off with a cocky smile. I slip on a patch of mud and go under the water again. I cry out in shock before slipping into the water a little more. "I can't swim!" I panic.

He hoists me up into his arms and holds me there securely until I've calmed myself down a little. "Shh," he says. "I've got you. I'm not gonna let you drown." I hang onto him like he's a rope suspending me over a cliff.

I glare up at him. "Why would you do that? I thought you were hurt. I was getting ready to jump in there and almost kill myself trying to save your backside, which, might I add, was perfectly fine."

He looks down at me in an amused manner. "It got you in, didn't it?"

I gasp. "You're absolutely evil!"

He smirks and starts to walk around in the water while carrying me in his arms. "The water's nice. Wouldn't have got you in any other way."

My mouth drops open slightly. "That's because I don't know how to swim!" I cry. "I could drown. Women back where I live aren't taught how to swim. It's not proper."

He corrects me. "_Was not_ proper. But like I said before, fuck it. You're not in Forks any more, little one. Lay back into the water. Feel the water on your skin."

I lay back into the water, wetting my braid as well as the crystals on it. I'm in nothing but skimpy scraps of underclothes that I opted to wear under my red silks. I'd never been in anything but bathwater my entire life, and the feeling of floating on top of cold, refreshing water was completely new and sensational.

I sigh and grab at his arms; he helps me sit up in his arms, droplets of cool water running down my cheeks and catching on my long eyelashes. "It's cold in here," I tell him. He looks down for some reason, and then nods back at me.

"Yeah," he says with another cocky, arrogant smile. "I can definitely tell."

Suddenly, I look down at my chest. My nipples were straining against the material that contained them. "Oh…" My face grows extremely red, and I don't even know what to say to insult him, so I say the first thing that comes to my mind. "Sorry."

He looks a little taken aback. "Sorry? Why are you sorry for something like that? It's…natural. S'beautiful. I think it's…" He leans in close to my ear and whispers, "Erotic. Besides Is'bella, I'm more naked than you are."

I find myself shuddering, more from his tone dripping with sex than the cold water. I slide out of his arms and deeper into the water, covering my chest with my hands and the water. He nods his head towards the waterfall. "C'mon," he says. "I've got something I want to show you. A secret hiding place for just you and me."

He pulls me towards the rocks and the waterfall. Then he lets go of my hand and jumps up onto one of the rocks in all of his naked glory, and slips behind the great fall of water. My eyes widen. He calls my name, a loud echoing sound only magnified by cave walls and water. I follow him into the back, ducking behind the great falling of water to reach the cave behind it.

Jacob's already started the fire back there, sitting there watching me with his knees crossed. "Ku zo nan," he says. "Sit with me."

I walk over to him and sit next to him by the fire. He's got a dead squirrel in his hand. I reel back in horror. "Where did you find that?" I ask him.

He looks around the cave. "Here," he says matter-of-factly. "Where else?"

I grimace. "You don't know how long it's been dead for."

He chuckles humorlessly. "Yes I do. And it's been dead for about a minute now."

My eyes widen and I shake my head. "You are truly what they say you are…a merciless barbarian."

He shrugs his massive shoulders. "Should live up to my title," he tells me. "I kill for means of survival."

I don't watch when he pulls out his dagger and digs the blade into the squirrel's belly. "And your men…I suppose they kill for fun?"

Again he only shrugs his shoulders. "I know what they're capable of. But I'm not there to say whether or not they can kill someone or not. That's where my brother comes in."

I gasp in shock. "What are you talking about? Is that why you don't participate in raids?"

He nods his head and I hear a crack when he cuts the feet off of the squirrel. "My brother would have definitely tried to slit my throat if he didn't have something to do with the kingdom. My father gave me the spot of king, so he repaid my brother with being in charge of running the raid parties and troops. But I oversee them first."

"But the killing," I murmur. "That was at his hands?"

Jacob nods. "I honestly wouldn't expect any less from him. He is _mugun mutum,_ a no good soul. There's nothing I can do about his lust for blood."

I shake my head violently. "No…no, that's absolute crap. You're the king, you should have every privilege, every last word! You need to get your brother in control. He's the one that's killing so many men, he's even merciless to the women and children."

He nods. "I'll try."

"Please do," I whisper.

He nods again. "For _you_."

I look up at him and swallow the lump that had been residing in my throat. I touch his tattooed bicep with the tips of my fingers. "Thank you." He doesn't answer. Instead he skewers the skinned squirrel on a stick and thrusts it over the fire. I grimace. "That's ugly."

He laughs. "It is, isn't it? It won't be so ugly when we cut 'im up and eat 'im."

I scoot a little closer to the fire, pleased with the warmth that it gives me. "I honestly have to say that I've never tried squirrel."

"It's good," he tells me. "But small. Like snack, not meal."

I watch it cook in the fire with interest. "Why are you so kind to me?" I ask out of the blue. I'm feeling particularly brazen today.

He looks over at me through his peripherals. "Do I have a reason not to be?" he asks me. I don't know what to say to that, so I just settle for saying nothing. "You are good companion. Loyal. Trustworthy. Strong. Strong man needs strong woman to bear strong children."

I'm confused by the sentence. What does he mean by 'strong man needs strong woman to bear strong children'? Does he wish for me to have his children? I don't question it right away. Maybe he means something else. It's possible. "You're very comfortable in your skin, aren't you?"

I watch as he moves around freely, naked as the day he was born without a trace of embarrassment. "Yes," he confirms. "Naked is natural. There is nothing wrong with skin. It's our bodies, and I do not believe we should have to hide them. Shame is not real; it is a mere product of our imaginations. We do not have to feel shame, so I do not."

As he pulls the cooked squirrel off of the fire, I think about what he's said. It's true; we come into this world naked, and natural. We don't need clothes or jewels to cover up what we have. "Could you help me take this off?" I ask him.

He's hunched over the squirrel, separating the meat into chunks with his blade. "Take off what?" Jacob asks, not even bothering to look over at me.

I take a deep breath. Am I really ready to go through with this? "My top." Yes, I am. He turns around quickly, gazing at me with a bewildered look in his eyes.

He leans back on his haunches, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of the sea. "You…" he points to me. "Want me…" Then he points to himself. "To take your top of?"

I nod slowly, my face burning brightly in the dark of the cave. "I suppose, yes."

His lips slowly spread into a honey sweet smile, widening his mouth and creating little dimples in his cheeks. "Well fuck me, I wasn't expectin' that. C'mere, little one."

I crawl closer to him and turn around, lifting my hair so he can see where to release the pin that held the cloth together. With a little click, the fabric falls down my waist, freeing my breasts. I stay there, not knowing what to expect next.

But I feel his hot chest pressing against my back, his chin resting in the crook of my neck. His hands slide down my collarbones and gently cup my breasts. He lets out a sigh of relief, turning his head slightly so that he can kiss my neck. "You are truly what they call a natural beauty," he murmurs.

His thumb runs over my left nipple, making it pebble up instantly. I lean my head back against his shoulder and sigh in contentment. "What is this?"

"I won't be entirely sure unless you describe how you feel to me right now."

I gulp and lay a hand over Jacob's hand, which gently cups my breast. "Heat, swirling rapidly in my stomach; a sweet, pounding sensation in my loins. It's dizzying."

He takes one of his hands off of my breasts and cups my chin in his hand, roughly turning my face to his. "It's your newly discovered pleasure," he says. Then he dives, his lips crashing into mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth.

His free hand skirts down my stomach and over the cloth that covers my crotch area. And when he touches me there, I react unexpectedly. I turn my head and place a hot, open-mouthed kiss on Jacob's jaw, urging him on completely.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmurs heatedly in my ear. I nod breathlessly. "It's your clit. Your jin dadin tabo, pleasure spot. Think of a mouth down there."

I shake my head. "That's unheard of," I say. "No one would kiss me down there."

He chuckles, his fingers moving faster on my _jin dadin tabo._ "You have much to learn," he says. "Because I would kiss you down there."

My pleasure is building my lower regions and something's happening that I've never felt before. I struggle to get my words out. "B-but my mother always said you lay there and let the man have his way with you, nothing more than that. Not for love or for pleasure, but for duty of…_oh_, reproducing a heir."

His hand slips below the cloth I have on, and touches me there, inserting a finger into my most vulnerable place. "Do you know what I think about that, Is'bella?" He crooks his finger and presses down hard on a spot that makes me cry out from the immense pleasure it gives me. "I think it's shit."

He removes his hand much to my dismay, and turns me around, pressing me to the cold, stony cave floor. He cradles my head in one hand, his other hand slithering back into my bottoms. He pumps his finger in and out of me.

I close my eyes, lost in the throws of pleasure. He smacks a kiss on my lips. "Open your eyes," he tells me. I try to open them but it's so hard. "Look me in the eyes. I want to see your face when your release comes."

I'm not quite sure what he means but all I want right now is it please him. I look him straight in the eyes. I faintly remember one of my married friends back in my kingdom saying something about looking in the eyes during lovemaking sessions.

"_Love comes in through the eyes," _Mary Smithe had said to me. _"So you must search them until you find it."_

His fingers pump faster and faster, an erotic squelching sound echoing in the cave. "Oh God," I moan loudly, trying to keep my eyes on his the whole time. He gives a lopsided grin, his eyes blackening with lust.

"You're close, love. It's building higher and higher…" he says huskily. My eyes roll back into my head slightly as I cry out in pleasure. "C'mon," he whispers, leaning over and kissing the corner of my mouth. "Let it go. I got you."

I take a deep breath before blowing apart at the seams, my muscles contracting wonderfully in my southern region. "Fuck!" he curses, and I feel something wet against my stomach.

I look down through heavy lidded eyes and strands of white fluid sitting above my navel. His hands brace my head, caging me in. His head is bowed, his eyes are tightly shut, and he's breathing heavily.

I cautiously reach up to wipe a bead of sweat off of his forehead. His eyes fly open, grabbing my hand instinctively. He gives me a shocked look, like he wasn't expecting his own reaction, and then kisses my fingers tenderly, sucking my middle finger into his mouth. With his free hand, he rubs his ejaculation into my skin like it's a prized lotion.

Outside, we hear thunder rumble and rain begin to fall. He curses softly, reaching over and grabbing a bite of squirrel before diminishing the fire and crawling to peek through the space between the water and rock. "It's gonna be seconds before it pours," he says. "We gotta go now. This place floods easily."

I grab my breast cloth and wrap it around myself, pinning it sloppily in the back. I adjust my bottoms before running out from behind the waterfall in pursuit of Jacob. He grabs my hand and pulls me across the water and into the grass. Just like he said, it begins to rain—hard.

In seconds, the dirt becomes mud, very slippery and gooey mud. As he runs to his horse, being the clumsy woman I am, I slip in the mud. "Shit, 'Bella, you alright?" he calls.

I'm laughing so hard I can barely contain myself. I'm half naked, covered in mud and laying in the middle of a field in the woods with a naked man. People back home would be horrified, but I'm laughing because I find that it doesn't bother me anymore.

He comes running over to me, careful not to slip in the mud, but he does anyways. He lands on his ass next to me, beginning to curse up a storm at his own clumsiness. "Fuck this fucking ass mud, I'll fucking kill…what the hell's the matter with you?"

I'm laughing so hard I can't breathe. Seeing the great king of the barbarians slip in the mud next to me was too much to bear. He leans closer to me. I lay on my back, my braid and crystal headdress slopped in mud. My hand is cupped over my mouth, trying to encase my horrific laughter.

"Are you…are you _laughing_?" he asks. At first I can tell he doesn't find it at all funny, but with hearing my ridiculous, thick laughter, he too begins to laugh. "Shit…'Bella…"

He's laughing and his speech slurs a little, saying my name as 'Bella' instead of Isabella. He's struggling with my name so much, that I just say, "Just call me Bella!"

He stands up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. "Get your ass up, 'de rain's peltin' me like…fuckin' shit, le's go."

We run to our horses and get the hell out of there. When we get back to the castle, he takes me in through a secret door so no one would see us in this muddy state. "That was the most fun I've had a while," I admit to him.

"The pleasuring part, or the mud part?" he asks with a mirthful look in his eyes.

I pause, pursing my lips. "Both."

He checks the corner to make sure that no one's coming before darting into his room, dragging me with him. "Now," he begins softly. "We've got to wash this mud off."

0o0o0o0o

**Hausa Dictionary**

**Kawai kuke bukatar****tambaya:** You only need to ask.

**Tsakar Dare**: Midnight

**Rana** **Fashe**: Daybreak

**Ku zo nan**: Come here

**Mugun mutum**: Evil man

**Jin dadin tabo: **Pleasure spot

Thanks for reading! This one was for Amber, since I promised her that I'd update before her flight so that she'd have something to read on her way. Up next: the bath scene, where Bella and barbarian Jacob decide to wash all of that mud off. **Reviews** help me lots, especially with the encouragement. Also, suggestions do too. The next chapter is for Blab Labels, who suggested a bath scene in the first place.

Courtney xx


	10. Payback

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the awesome reviews. You guys totally rock. I now have a lovely banner for this story, made by don'tcallmeleelee. Check this _amazing_ banner out on my profile page. I couldn't have asked for a better banner. Vote for her here and take out all of the spaces of course: occupyartstreet . blogspot . com . es/

**Chapter Ten: **_Payback _

He's in the bathtub, sitting and watching me. Mud cakes his chest and his arms. He looks at me expectantly. "Aren't you getting in?" he asks me.

I shift nervously in my place. "Can't I have my own bath?" I question.

He gives me a look. "Your own bath? Are you being serious?" When I nod my head he frowns. "I've seen you naked. I've touched your breasts and gave you pleasure with my fingers, and you don't want to bathe with me?"

I don't know what to say anymore. I fold my arms and shift in place. "Jacob…"

"No," he cuts me off. "I'll give you a choice. Either you bathe with me or you go to bed with my caked onto your skin." He leans back against the lip of the tub and closes his eyes. "I think the choice is simple, really. It's big enough for the both of us."

Jacob doesn't open his eyes for a few moments. I stand there in shock before acting. I reach around back and unclip the cloth that covers my breasts and slip down my bottoms. I sit in the very back of the tub, making sure that I'm not sitting on any of his body parts. His legs are so long that his foot nearly touches my stomach.

Slowly, I see the tip of his erection standing up in the water. He's aroused. I clear my throat. "Can I have the soap?" I ask him. He reaches over and grabs a wooden bowl off of a table and hands it to me. I dip my fingers into the yellow substance and put it into my hair. It smells like honey.

I work it into my hair with my fingers, rinsing with a bucket of water. "Don't get water on the floor," he scolds me like a child when little drops of water splatter onto the stone floors.

I scowl back at him. "If you would have let me have my own bath, I would have been able to contain the water." He shrugs and leans back against the tub once more. His erection only gets bigger.

"You are nothing but fire," he murmurs softly, glancing at me from under heavy-lidded eyes. "We balance each other out perfectly."

I look at him expectantly. "Aren't you going to wash as well?"

He doesn't answer right away. "My muscles are sore," he whispers. "I think I'm just going to relax for a little…and enjoy the view."

I frown at him and grab one of the sponges sitting on the wooden bath supply table. "Turn around."

This makes him more alert. "Bella, you know that—"

I shake my head, ceasing his chatter. "Oh hush, I know. You've seen my chest already. I just want to wash your back for you."

He licks his lips before nodding and sitting up. Water runs down the crevices between his abs and pecks. "Oh. Okay." He turns and shifts in the bathtub, baring his back to me. He pulls his hair forward so that I have room to wash. I dip the sponge into the wooden bowl of honey-scented soap and press it to his skin.

The bubbles create a thick lather across the long, ugly scars across his skin. I rub the sponge around on his skin, my free hand gently massaging the scars. He tilts his head back in pleasure. And suddenly, I feel a stronger pull towards him. I pity him for being whipped as a child, pity him for losing his first love to his older brother, pity him for being lonely and loveless.

My nail gently scrapes across one of the scars and he shudders. "Did I hurt you?" I ask him, my voice no louder than the song of a passing breeze. He shakes his head. I experimentally do it again, and I receive the same reaction as before. "It feels good?"

He nods his head. "Your touch does strange things to me, _wanda nake kauna," _he tells me. "I don't let people touch my scars." I rinse off his back with a bucket of warm bathwater. They are numerous, fleshy and pink.

I gently press my lips to one of the scars. "But you let me touch them," I say quietly. He leans back into my touch, one of his hands reaching around back to touch my bare thigh. "Only me?"

Jacob nods his head absently. "Yes. Only you." He ducks his head and looks into the water, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "Mafi za a kyama, ina rantsuwa da scars. Kai ne ba ... kuma ina mamaki dalilin da ya sa haka shi ne." _(Most would be disgusted by my scars. You are not…and I wonder why that is so.)_

He turns around in the tub to look at me, wondering if I understood what he's said. I do. I shake my head in disbelief. "A scars nuna karfin zuciya da kuma jimiri ne daga matasa shekaru. Ban ce muku ya kamata a masanan basu ji dadin a gare su." _(The scars show bravery and endurance from a young age. I don't think you should be disappointed in them.)_

He purses his lips. "Ni ba na jin kunyar abin da na kai a kan fata. Sai na fada muku, kafin. Kawai wani sabon abu fiye da abin da zan kasance, shi ke nan." (_I am not ashamed of what I bear on my skin. I told you that before. It's just something new than what I'm used to, that's all.)_

Jacob lifts a hand and strokes his warm thumb down my nipple. I shudder beneath his touch. "Kana iya da wani mace da kake so. Me ya sa ka zabi ni?" _(You could have any woman you want. Why do you choose me?)_

His hand strokes my arm softly. He looks at me straight in the eye. "Ina kuma son wani abu daban-daban. Sai kawai don haka ya faru da kai." _(I wanted something different. It just so happened to be you.)_

"Amma ku ne kawai so in ya sami damar fuck da ni, ni dama? Wani abu m saboda wadanda sauran kulle girls aka zama m." _(But you only want me to be able to fuck me, am I right? Something exotic because those other harem girls were becoming boring.)_

He looks at me like I've just insulted everything he lived for. He is about to say something nasty, but he stops himself from doing so. "Na sanya soyayya ne kawai sau daya a rayuwa baki daya." _(I've only made love once in my entire life.)_

I laugh when he says it, leaning forward in the water. "Ina zaton ka ce duk abin da ka kasance daga makaryata amma." (I thought you said that you were everything but a liar.)

He frowns at me. "Alloli a sama, mace. Ni ba zan kwance a gare ka!" (Gods above, woman. I am not lying to you!)

Now I'm a little agitated. "Me game da Athenodora? Kuma Rosalie? Sun shaida wa daji da labaru. Ka ba fucked su?" _(What about Athenodora? And Rosalie? They tell wild stories. You have not fucked them?)_

"Of course I have!" he exclaims loudly in the Common Tongue.

I cock my head and look at him like he is crazy. "I do not think you understand—"

"No," he cuts me off quickly. "You are the one that does not understand." He pushes me back against the edge of the tub, his knee sliding between mine and rubbing against my clit. "Do you understand, Bella?"

I bite my lip to refrain from moaning. "No, I d-don't. Explain to me then."

He leans down close to my ear. "I have fucked many, I will not deny. But fucking is something completely different than making love. Fucking is rough." He grabs my jaw roughly with his hand and plunges his mouth onto mine, pulling at my lip with his teeth. He releases my lip from his teeth and goes about kissing me gentler. "Making love is _tender_. I only ever made love to White Fawn."

He peppers my face with kisses and moves his knee against me in circular motions. I pant into his mouth and his tongue flickers out and licks my lips greedily before diving in to tango with my own tongue.

I nod my head slightly. "I understand now." My hand reaches up under him and I grab his cock in my grip. His eyes widen and he gasps loudly. I pump my hand along his shaft smoothly. "There were a lot of things that I never understood before I came over here. And a lot of things that I still need to understand and be taught."

His head ducks and his eyes squeeze tightly shut. "Oh, _ya allah na_." He bucks up into my hand. "How did you learn to pleasure a man like this?" His husky whisper lingers in my ear.

Each stroke of my hand drags fire through his body, and I can see it with the way his face contorts in such pleasure when I do so. "From you," I say. His eyes snap to mine with a lustful look so fierce that it physically shakes me. "I watched you that one night."

"Na san shi," he whispers, his mouth agape and his eyes peeled wide open. I tug on his cock a little harder and this time his moan echoes out into the silence, throwing his head back with pleasure. "Oh, _fuck_!"

I stroke a little harder, looking into his eyes while I do so. He thrusts into my hand, his hips rocking rhythmically. I kiss the bottom of his jaw softly before mustering up the courage to ask him something else. "Can I taste it?"

He looks down at me again with a flustered look on his face. "Who are you, woman?" he asks with a smile. He leans back in the tub, his cock standing straight up.

I nod my head. "I think this ought to be our second class."

He nods right back at me. He doesn't seem to mind at all that this will be our second session. His hand lands on his own cock and strokes gently up and down. "Lean down," he instructs. "Suck on it. Hard."

I lean down in the water, coming face to face to the appendage that had haunted me so much. But an eager Jacob fed his erect member into my mouth. He tasted salty and musky, but it's not unpleasant.

His shaft is long and somewhat thick, but not too monstrously thick. Thick veins curl up the shaft to the sensitive head. I grip the base of his cock and tentatively lick the head. He spreads his thighs wider in the bathtub, a hand cradling around the back of my neck to pull my mouth onto his cock even further.

I go about licking his cock like it's a delicacy of some sort. He makes grunts of appreciation and pleasure, thrusting into my mouth. He wants me down further and further, but I don't know how much more I can do without choking. I'm completely new at this. I never thought of kissing someone's genitals before Jacob.

Sex is completely different now that I've found Jacob. He teaches me that it's so much more than boring old vanilla, the 'get-in, get-out' kind of sex. It can be rainbow sherbet and all kinds of interesting and new.

I try to keep his cock pretty wet with my tongue, licking it and passing my tongue over top of him. He grunts as he shunts himself into me, his head tilted back in ecstasy. "Gods, Bella…" he whispers. "So good." The feeling of satisfying another makes me completely aroused. To see him in such a vulnerable, beautiful state with his legs spread and his most precious body part in my mouth, eyes shut and mouth echoing moans of pleasure

His balls bunch up as he prepares to explode into my mouth. I don't want to swallow so I back up and jack him with my hand. His hand grips the edge of the wooden tub with his knuckles turning white. He's muttering his appreciation, eyes shut tightly.

He swells up and then jets white ribbons of semen all over my face. I really wasn't expecting it to go all over my face, so I scrunch up my nose and shut my eyes, leaning back in shock. He sits straight up and kisses at my face, licking the cum off of my cheeks.

"Oh m'love, you were so amazing…" he murmurs, his hands cradling my face tenderly. It seems like he can't get enough of me. The rest of the ejaculation is rubbed into my skin softly. He buries his nose into my hair. I'm still shocked that I even did that. "You even smell like me now," he chuckles softly.

I lean back in the tub. "Now what?"

"Now what," he repeats back, a great Cheshire smile painting itself onto his face. "I kiss you down there and return the favor."

I shudder with lust but look away quickly. "I don't think I'm ready for that just yet," I whisper softly. He looks a little bit disappointed at first, but the smile is painted back on quickly.

He nods his head in comprehension. "Alright, I understand. Take your time," he murmurs softly. "Tonight was amazing. I gave you pleasure with my fingers, and you gave me pleasure with your mouth. You let your guard down. That's a huge step for us, Bella."

I nod my head. "I know."

He slips his finger under my chin and kisses it. "I'll have you begging for me to kiss you down there one day. And it will be like nothing you've ever experienced before."

The offer is quite tempting, but I really don't think I'm ready. "I could go get us some wine," I offer myself. He nods his head. I slip on my nightgown and the red silk robe. He stands in the bath, wraps a towel around his waist and follows me into his bedroom.

0o0o0o0o

Black Bear is there, in the kitchen again. When he sees me he smiles initially but then checks for Jacob. "Sannu," I greet. "Za mu sake haduwa a cikin wannan wuri." _(Hello. We meet again in the same place.)_

He gives me a look. "Er, sannu. Mafi yawan kawo canji game da kai, ba?" _(Er, hello. Much has changed about you, no?)_

I nod and take the crystal vase full of wine and pour some in Jacob's goblet for him. "Na'am, na koyi yadda za ka yi magana da harshe. Yanzu za mu iya magana ba tare da shamaki da harshen ... da za mu iya magana game da ruwan inabi." I laugh. _(Yes, I have learned to speak your tongue. Now we can speak without the language barrier…we can talk about wine.)_

Black Bear takes his glass, gulping uncomfortably before darting away.

I gasp. "Ku yi jira!" I cry after him. "Kada ka bar haka nan da sannu." _(Wait! Do not leave so soon.)_

He whirls around with fire in his eyes. "Ba na neman wata fashe hanci, Tiger kambori," he hisses at me. "Idan sarki catches da mu, na ass za a skinned. Ba naku. Nice magana da kai." _(I don't want another broken nose, Tiger Claw. If the king catches us, my ass will be skinned. Not yours. Nice talking to you.)_

With that, Black Bear turns with his harsh words and strides out of the room. He's made it pretty clear to me to stay away from him. I sigh and rub my temples with the pads of my thumbs. Jacob's possession and dominance over me has scared most everyone from me. In some cases, it's a good thing but in other cases it makes me feel like a poison.

When I feel a semi-rough touch on my arm, I automatically assume it's Jacob, coming down to see to me because I've taken 'too long to get the wine' yet again. But when I turn around, it is not his smirking face that I see. It's Iron Coyote's.

I gasp in shock and reel back in horror. "Don't you touch me," I scold him. "Don't you dare."

He mock-pouts. "You are not happy to see me," he says. "I could change that in an instant. I smell how aroused you are, Tiger Claw. I could smell it from five doors down."

I suddenly realize that the arousal he smells was the arousal that came about when I pleasured Jacob in the bathtub. My eyes widen and I take the two glasses into my hand, preparing to march out of the kitchen.

He puts his arm out to stop me, the force of his hand knocking some of the wine out of the full goblets. It splatters in red blotches onto the floor. Iron Coyote makes me put the wine back down on the table before grabbing my hands in his tightly.

Wine drips down my fingers. I struggle in his grasp, but he is too strong for me. The barbarian prince had spent a great deal of time building his muscular strength up, but he would never match Jacob's stamina. He takes my finger into his mouth and twirls his tongue around the tip.

I shriek in disgust and pull away instantly, slapping him across the face. He stumbles towards the counter, grabbing onto one of the cabinets to steady himself. Instead of screaming a loud 'how dare you' sort of speech onto me, he laughs stupidly and stumbles forwards. "You are ball of fire, my brother was right. I bet he enjoys fucking your pretty little ass."

Squinting my eyes at him, I notice the way his lids droop and how clumsily he stumbles around the room. I groan in disgust. "You're drunk." I state, watching as he grabs Jacob's goblet and takes a long gulp of wine.

He holds the goblet up into the air, a trail of red liquid dribbling down his lips. "Drunk and proud," he announces. I snatch the goblet out of his hand and move it far away from him.

Iron Coyote reaches out for me. I try to sidestep him, but I'm too slow. He gathers me into his arms and buries his face in my neck. "Oh, brother gets everyt'ing. Got 'de throne, father's love, 'de jewels, 'de credit…" He pulls back and looks me in the eye. "An' he got you."

I try to push him away from me but his grip is relentless. I start yelling when I see him beginning to untie his breechcloth and free his cock. I know he will rape me. "Stop! Iron Coyote, stop it!"

He does not listen to me. Instead he keeps on mumbling. He jacks himself with his head lying against my breast and his free hand keeping mine firmly locked in place. His body is too heavy for me to even move. "It ain't fair," he moans. "I should get some too."

When I realize that pushing him away won't help, I decide to take a different approach. "What about Emilia? She loves you."

He looks up into my eyes and laughs. On his breath I smell various types of fine wines, brandies, and beers. He has been drinking for a while. "I don' love her," Iron Coyote replies. "I'm tired of her. I want _you_."

His free hand lets go of my cock and before I can scream, he's opened my robe and stuck his hand up my skirts. His fingers stroke me there, and I scream so loud that he has no choice but to shut me up with his lips. Using a gut reaction, I grab his lip with my teeth.

"That's what I'm talking about," he begins to murmur. But I bite down—hard—and draw blood. He screams, pushing away from me and cradling his lip in his fingers. Blood spurts down his chin and trickles down his bare chest. "You _kariya!_"

And before I can move, he backhands me and I land against the cold floor. I don't fall to the ground right away so he does it again, this time using his other hand. I see black, but the spots slowly fade away. I spit out blood from my lip, pushing myself off of the ground. There's a newly-forming bruise on my cheek and my jaw aches like the seven hells.

I hear Jacob's voice over my dizziness and I hear him and his brother fighting away about me. I don't know who is winning the fight, but I can only hope it is Jacob. I blink out of the blurriness and see Jacob holding a knife to Iron Coyote's throat.

"If you ever touch her again, I cut you so bad that no one will ever look at your face again without vomiting in horror, you disgusting piece of shit." Jacob seethes through angry teeth.

Iron Coyote glances over at me. "Keep your bitch on a leash, Jacob. She came onto me!"

Jacob looks over at me sitting on the floor. I spit out a little bit of blood before glaring lethally at Iron Coyote. "You _liar_! He lies, my king. He does!"

Agitated with the whole situation, he turns back to his older brother. "If she came onto you, why is your lip bleeding and why is she over there beaten?"

"Your dirty whore nearly bit my lip clean off! She deserved every ounce of pain she received…ah!" He cries out when the tip of Jacob's dagger pierces the skin on his neck.

He ignores me when I call his name, his eyes focused on Iron Coyote. "Touch her and I'll kill you. Breathe her name and I'll kill you. Look at her and I'll kill you!" Jacob rants. "I'll cut out your heart just like I did Felix's and serve it to her on a golden dinner plate."

He pushes Iron Coyote out of the way and his older brother scurries down the hallway. "EMILIA!" his booming voice echoes outs down the hallway.

Jacob wipes his nose before dropping the knife and rushing to my side. "Oh Gods," he whispers, examining my bloody nose and split lip. He touches a tender bruise on my cheek and I curl back in pain. His eyes are pools of sorrow and pity for what his brother has done to me. "I'm so sorry. I should've known better than to let you down here without me."

He presses his forehead to mine and kisses the space between my eyebrows. "I'm so sorry that this has happened to you," he murmurs. "Won't you say anything?"

I look up at him, desperately trying to catch my breath. I don't know what to say to him, so I just say the first thing that's on my mind. "Wine," I whisper. "He drank your wine."

He smiles slightly, not sure if it's the time for laughs. "Let's go back up to the room."

0o0o0o0o

"Oh Gods, I'm choking," I say, feeling the blood run down the back of my throat. I lean back against a pillow with a white handkerchief pressed to my nose. It's not broken, just bloody. And it hurts.

"Tilt your head forward," he instructs. I hold the bloody handkerchief to my nose having been unable to stop the bleeding for over fifteen minutes. I cough some more when some of the blood drips down the back of my throat.

I look at him funny. "Why? That'll just make it come out more."

He sits at the edge of the bed and watches me with worried eyes. "Exactly. The blood needs to go somewhere, honey." I look up at him in shock. Honey? That was such a name to be called, a name you'd call your beloved, not your personal whore. "Do you want it running down the back of your throat or onto the cloth?"

I cough violently again before sitting up and leaning my head into the cloth. The blood practically drains into the cloth.

"Good," he praises. "Leaning back can make the blood go to your windpipes or line your stomach. Then you'd retch. Trust me, I've had a lot of experience with bloody noses."

I believe him. The excess blood that had been running down my throat before now threatens to come back up my throat. I cough again, the blood dripping from my split lip spraying outwards, some of the droplets landing on his bare chest. "I'm sorry!" I quickly exclaim, almost forgetting who he is.

I reach out and wipe the blood from his skin before he can complain about its presence. He nods. "You're okay. Hold your nose just before your bridge to clot the blood. It should stop within five minutes or so."

I nod my head and do exactly what he tells me to do. "Thank you," I murmur. "For taking care of me."

Fifteen minutes earlier, he'd set about stripping me naked with no intention of using me in a sexual way, but examining almost every inch of my ivory skin for bruises. Then he gave me a red silk robe to wear again and set me on the bed, giving me ice in a thin pouch of animal skin. I was to lay back against the pillows with it on my head. Apparently hitting the stone floor with your head hurts after a while…a lot.

The corner of Jacob's mouth pricks up into that beautifully handsome smile of his. "You're welcome, honey." There was that name again. It made her womanly bits flare with heat and lust. "I want to say thank you for biting my brother. Let's just say I've been looking for a good excuse to pound his ass for a while now…but I'm sorry you got hurt in the midst of it. He's one cunt-hungry bastard, and he sure does want everything I've got."

I nod my head. "Including me."

He frowns at that. "I know. Including you."

I try to bring more light into the conversation. "But he said I almost bit his lip off at least," I giggle softly like a child. "I got even."

"Yes," he says as he crawls up to where I sit near the pillows. "You paid him back like a true Quileute woman."

I lift the cloth away from my nose and examine it. There's dry blood, only dry, and no fresh blood. "I think it's stopped now," I say. "Where do I put this?"

He nods towards the fire. "Just throw it in there. I don't want it, and those stains will be hell for the maids to wash out."

"Alright," I say. I toss it into the fire. It lands short so I scamper out of bed and toss it into the fire the rest of the way. I stand there and watch it shrivel up and burn while being licked by the bright orange flames

I hear his body shift on the bed with the way the frames squeak. "Come back to me," he pleads. "It has been a long day."

I turn around and go to my place in the bed, lifting the heavy covers before settling down beneath them. Jacob glances over at me through the firelight. I glance right back at him and slowly smile.

He breathes softly. "Gobe ina ganin zan sumbace ka." (_Tomorrow I think I shall kiss you.)_

I furrow my eyebrows. "Sumbace ni? Ka riga ka aikata wannan." _(Kiss me? You have already done this.)_

"Ina so in sumbace ka wani wuri daban-daban. Wata ila ka lebe da farko, amma sai watakila wani wuri dabam." He murmurs. "Kokari ya tsammani inda zan sumbace ka gaba." _(I want to kiss you somewhere different. Perhaps your lips first, but then maybe somewhere else. Attempt to guess where I will kiss you next.)_

I'm suddenly intrigued. "Na kiraza?" I question. _(My breasts?)_

"Babu," he replies, shaking his head. "Sake gwadawa." _(No, try again.)_

"Na kafafu." _(My legs.)_

"Babu."

"Ciki na?" _(My stomach?)_

"Ba kome, zan gaya maka," he laughs. "Zan je ka sumbace zaki da al'aurar mata." _(Okay I'll tell you, I'm going to kiss your sweet cunt.)_

I gasp and flop back against the pillows. I should have known but…but hearing that word on his lips and the look in his eyes when he told me what he was going to do to me makes me shiver. "Mmm."

He laughs softly. "I can already smell your arousal."

My cheeks burn bright red in the darks. "_Oh_."

"It'll serve as a bit of payback for what you did for me today."

I try to keep myself under control. "Oh."

He leans over and captures my lips. I've been wanting him for so long that I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss even further. He dips his tongue into my mouth ever so slowly, flicking at the edges of my teeth and stroking my own tongue with a lazy sort of rhythm. "That sound good to you, honey?"

I don't know where my words have gone, but I certainly can't find them anymore. "Uh-huh."

He gives me one last kiss, his tongue lingering in my mouth before pulling away with a strand of saliva stuck to his full russet lips. "_Payback_."

0o0o0o0o

**Hausa Dictionary**

(the ones that weren't covered in the chapter.)

**Ya allah na**: God

**Wanda nake kauna**: My love

My, oh my, what a naughty Jacob we had! And wow, Bella really did take that next step. **Review** and let me know how it was and what you'd like to see next.

Courtney xx


	11. Kiss

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note: **_Happy early 4__th__ of July!_Some people have been asking if Edward will be making an appearance or if he died in the raid. The answer to that is: Edward is not dead and will be making an appearance near the end of the story. I'm not planning on adding him in yet, but you'll have your picture perfect J/B story for a little while longer until the climax comes. I do not plan on Bella going with Edward, so you can calm your little scared hearts down (: Sorry for the mistakes in the last chapter! I was dying with laughter after some of you pointed them out to me because some of them were really ridiculous. But hey, no one's perfect. LOL! Thank you for the wonderful reviews. Onward!

**Chapter Eleven**: _Kiss_

When I wake, he's not in the room. The space beside me is empty and cold, the sheets peeled back from where his body had imprinted in the bed. I yawn and throw the covers off of my body. The bruises on my face ache, as well as my jaw and my nose. My lip is still sore, but a scab has formed on it overnight.

My curls are unruly, but I have no intention of taming them this morning. I go to the wardrobe and pick a beautiful blue silk with purple and orange floral prints on it.

Once I am dressed, I walk to the door and take a small peek out into the hallway. The hallways are mostly barren, except for a lone maid in rags collecting laundry in a wicker basket placed at the doorways.

"Excuse me," I call. The maid looks up from collecting her laundry and takes a few small steps towards me. She notices that I'm in Jacob's room and then takes a few small steps back. "Do you know where the king is?"

By the look on the maid's face, I presume she does not know the Common Tongue. She points a delicate finger down the hallway. "Sister…_ill_. His sister having baby."

Suddenly, I remember what Rosalie told me about Three Horses' wife being ready to pop out a child at any moment. Jacob hadn't talked to me personally about it, and I'd gradually forgotten about it. I hear an ear-splitting scream echo down the hallway and nod at the maid to give my thanks.

I scurry down the hallway, trying not to trip over my skirts as I rush into the little, hot hallway that people crowded around. Paul was there with his head banging against the doorway, listening to every one of his wife's pain-filled shrieks with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

Drinks of Waterfall and Angelina are there, sitting together in chairs near the back. Iron Coyote sits in a corner with his arm around Emilia's tiny shoulders, a totally bored expression on his face. Black Bear is there with his sister Radiant Moon, or as her commoner's name, Leah. Gray Hawk is there with Cecilia.

I see Jacob standing in the corner of the room with sweat beading on his forehead; he's obviously worried about his favorite sister. He doesn't see me when I try and catch his attention, turning into the corner and rubbing his temples in attempt to relieve the stress he feels.

I meekly make my way over to Angelina, who turns and hugs me tightly. "Oh, I've missed you." I smile at her. Drinks of Waterfall leans over and gives us both a wary look.

"Angel," he croons. "Wannan shi ne wani lokaci domin kauna." _(This is no time for affection.)_

She nods and shuts her mouth almost instantly. Then she leans close to my ear. "They say the child kills her." Angelina tells me. "They don't know if she'll make it out alive."

"That's horrible," I whisper back to her. "I would hate to have that happen."

A tall man waltzes into the room with Clair at his side. I've never seen him before. Angelina cuts me off before I can ask his name. "That's White Fire Sun, or Quil. He mostly likes to keep to himself, but I know him because he's Embry's good friend. He's claimed Clair as his own and now she doesn't live in the harem anymore."

White Fire Sun looks kind, but mischievous. The way he nibbles on Clair's earlobe when she's least expecting it, causing her to laugh out loud and receive scornful looks from Jacob and Three Horses.

When Jacob catches sight of me, he rushes over to my side. He speaks in the Common Tongue so that most of his men will not understand him. "Why are you here?" he questions. "I thought you slept."

I ignore his bad grammar and shake my head. "I woke up when I realized you weren't there. I came to look for you when I was informed by a maid that you were here as your sister gave birth. I wanted to come and…support you."

At this he softens and takes the chair beside me. His eyes are moist. "Snow Lion's always been a sickly woman. Never strong, always weak. Even though she was my older sister, I always looked after her. She caught the same disease my mother and sister did, but she survived. It made her weak after."

I don't know what to say or how to comfort him. I lean my head onto his shoulder. He does not move. Another one of Snow Lion's pained screams drags out long this time. Everyone goes quiet, listening for the sound of a baby's squeal.

And the squeal comes not a moment later. Three Horses looks relieved and so does Jacob. The midwife comes out a second later. "A yaro ne mi mace," she says. _(The child is a female.)_

Three Horses isn't so much worried about the baby's gender. "Kuma abin da na uwargida ta? Ko da ta ke nan?" _(And what of my wife? Is she all right?)_

One by one, we all file in to congratulate Three Horses and Snow Lion on their new baby. Jacob and I are last. He tells her how much he loves her and how he's very glad that she's okay.

Snow Lion points a shaky finger at me. "Wane ne ta?" she asks her brother. He tells her my Quileute name and my commoner's name. "Ku bar mu, dan'uwansa. Zan mayar da ita zuwa gare ka a wani lokaci." _(Who is she? Leave us, brother. I shall return her to you in a moment.)_

Jacob nods before turning to me. "She wishes to speak with you in private," he says. His voice is no longer soft, but hard and masculine. "I'll be waiting for you outside the door." He and Three Horses depart the room.

I swallow a thick lump in my throat and beg Jacob with my eyes to have him stay. I do not know this woman, nor do I know what she will say. As far as she knows, I'm just his monthly whore.

She looks me up and down and nods her head. "Dress is beau-tif-ul." She sounds out the word. "Flower patterns are my most favorite."

I nod in my thanks. She returns her attention to her baby.

"Tiger Claw," she muses, holding her child in her arms. "Name interests me. My brother gave you it for a reason, though."

The baby fusses, so Snow Lion pulls down her shirt and lets the babe suckle upon her breast with no shame in her eyes. My face burns bright red. "I…I suppose so, yes."

She smiles at me weakly before brushing some of the black hair on the baby's forehead with her fingers. "I not seen my brother so happy with a woman before." She looks up at me expectantly. "My brother is hard, like _nut_ that just don't wanna crack. But you crack him, though it is slowly."

I kneel by Snow Lion's bedside. She looks upon me with her soft brown eyes. I do not know what to say, so I say nothing at all and just settle with smiling and nodding.

She coughs. "Drink is on table. Get for me, Tiger Claw?"

At first I don't understand what she's trying to say because her common tongue is so faulty, but I put two and two together. "Your glass of water?" I ask. She nods and holds her throat.

"Na'am," she says. "I have thirst." I hand her the glass of water and she gulps it down. She nods in thanks. "Jacob never loves. Only ever loved a girl named White Fawn. My older brother took her away from him and he never forgave himself for letting Iron Coyote do so."

I nod my head sadly. "It's a horrid story. He told me once, I believe. It's a shame she died in childbirth."

Snow Lion nods her head and smiles softly. "He would not tell you White Fawn's story if he did not intend to keep you. I heard about the _imprint. _I was surprised, I will tell you just that."

I lick my dry lips and look upon Snow Lion's beautiful, but pale face. "He's only known me for two months now. I am still not sure what an imprint is. One of the harem girls told me all about what came about with a man imprinting on me and making the claim speech, but I never got the true understanding of it."

She smiles slow like molasses, the warm light filtering through the window kissing her face. "I not gonna tell you, Tiger Kambori. I gonna leave that to him to show you what it means."

I sense that she's done speaking with me when she goes back to tending to her newborn child. I open the door to Three Horses, who gives me a respectful nod before going in to see his wife and daughter.

Jacob nods to me to beckon me over to him. I feebly comply, walking out into the emptied room and into his arms. "What did she say to you?" he questions me. I smile begin to tug him down the hallway. "Well? Tell me."

I don't really answer him. "Your sister's a beauty, and a kind one at that." I say to him. "She told me great things about you."

This makes him intrigued. "What sort of things did she say?" He is desperate to know what his sister had said to me, and I like holding it over him.

I grasp his arm. "All good things." He looks a little relieved. "You need not worry yourself over it."

He drops the subject once he realizes that he won't get anything out of me. He looks down at what I wear. "You look beautiful," he comments. "That silk was crafted by Snow Lion for herself before she got pregnant. She gave it to me to store it away. She said you could have it if you wanted it."

My eyes widen. When I walked into the room with Jacob, Snow Lion had complimented me on the silks. Now I feel even luckier to have the silk in my possession.

We travel to the breakfast hall, where men chatter loudly, drinking ale and stuffing their greedy mouths with breakfast meats. Jacob takes his seat at the end of the table, and I take the empty chair to his left.

The cheering only gets louder once Jacob has gotten here. They pass the bowls of food up to him and look at me expectantly. Then I realize that I am to dish out his food for me. Blushing bright red at this new custom that I did not know of, I stab a slab of ham onto his plate, then eggs and fried potatoes with onion.

He strokes my arm softly without making a sound. _He's different in public_, I tell myself. I grab the pitcher and fill his glass with goat's milk before sitting back down in my seat again. The man beside me is Black Bear, so I feel comfortable eating without him turning his lustful eyes upon me.

But Sam takes his place at to the right of Jacob, and direction across from me at the table. His smoldering eyes twist my stomach into knots after what he did to me in the kitchen. I go to pour myself another glass of goat's milk but the pitcher that I used for Jacob's glass is empty.

The next one is right next to Black Bear, and I find myself breaking into a sweat trying to figure out how to ask him. Last time we spoke he made it clear that he didn't want anything to do with me after Jacob wrongfully assaulted him.

I tap him on the bicep lightly, right over the tattoo that Jacob and all his men wore. He flinches at my touch before looking at me with widened brown eyes. He looks at me expectantly. I almost forget what I'm about to ask him. "Could you please pass me the milk?" I ask.

Black Bear shoots a look up to Jacob, who is busy talking with White Fire Sun and Drinks of Waterfall. He nods curtly and grabs the pitcher of milk off of the table and passes it to me. "There." He nods to it.

I nod my head. "I see it. Thank you," I smile up at him, and his eyes flash with youth and friendliness. Then he quickly looks away. I notice Jacob eyeing him up suspiciously. I lay my hand over his and smile weakly.

This is exactly the reason why Black Bear refuses to talk to me. I pick at my potatoes in complete silence while the others talk and talk about topics a woman's not fit to listen in on. But alas, I am one of the three women at this breakfast table. All the ladies at the harem ate wherever they wanted this morning, but they could not eat in here. Angelina is with Drinks of Waterfall, and Clair is with White Fire Sun.

I can tell that Angelina is undeniably happy with Drinks of Waterfall. She has the occasional bruise or two on her arms, but nothing serious as compared to when we first started out.

"_The life here has promises of something of so much more value. Back at Forks I still would have been a maid, cleaning houses and going about in my own peasant way. But here, they do not know me as a peasant. They see me as the woman of Drinks of Waterfall, the brave warrior of many battles…and thus I am respected." _ I remember what Angelina had said about her views in Forks versus her views here.

I see her across the table, minding her own business as well. Drinks of Waterfall had claimed her a few days ago, but she hadn't told me. She keeps her head down and focuses on prodding her eggs with her fork.

Drinks of Waterfall laughs with Jacob, his smile making Angelina smile softly down at her plate. I wonder how she does it. He does not speak a lick of the Common Tongue, and Angelina's not very good with the barbarian language.

I wonder what their sex life is like as well. Angelina's not big on bragging, unlike some of the other girls in the harem. I jump when I feel fingers on the insides of my thighs. Instantly I know it's Jacob.

He still laughs with White Fire Sun and Drinks of Waterfall likes nothing has even happened. I clench my thighs together before his fingers can skirt across my wetness. At breakfast, again? I whimper a little, catching Black Bear's attention.

He casts a glance over his shoulder at me in suspicion. I smile weakly at him. Jacob shoots me a side glance, one that is full of mischief and seduction. I retaliate by moving my chair in closer to the table and reaching and landing a hand right over his obvious erection.

He grunts a struggled, "Fuck," before continuing talking. I can't help but laugh, tears sparkling at my eyes. White Fire Sun asks him if he's okay and Jacob nods with his pleasure pain. I stop laughing when I see Gray Hawk, Black Bear and Iron Coyote's eyes suspiciously on me.

I eat my sausage while his hand grips my thigh tighter. I grab his hand with my free hand and move it off my thigh. "Dances With Wolves," I whisper, shaking his arm to grab his attention. He turns to me after I've disturbed his chat. "May I be excused? I've finished my breakfast."

He looks down at my empty plate then nods his head. "Go. No wanderin' the halls, back to the room."

I nod my head and exit the dining hall. I know what he plans to do with me after he's finished with his breakfast.

0o0o0o0o

I'm sitting in his great bearskin chair when he waltzes into the room just a little after breakfast. I instantly fly up from where I'm at and my eyes plead my apology. He doesn't like people sitting in his chair , but I thought that since he was gone it would just be different.

I wasn't planning on being caught, but alas, I am. He doesn't seem that angry, just a little annoyed. "That's my chair," he whispers. "Not Bella's chair, or anyone else's."

I nod my head quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

He holds up his hand to silence me. "I should punish you," he comments. My eyes widen. This is completely unlike Jacob, to punish me. He stalks towards me, his hand jetting out into the open and tearing away my silk top.

I gasp and clutch at my now naked breasts. He reaches forward and then snatches my bottoms away while my hands are busy with covering my breasts. I cry out in shock, my eyes widening in disbelief. Will he rape me? Will he go back on his word that he promised to keep for so long?

Now I'm completely naked and vulnerable. He charges me, and like a scared little doe, I run. His eyes blacken with lust. "You should know never to run from a wolf." I instantly understand the line, since the Quileute symbol is the wolf and it's the most respected animal in the kingdom.

I try to dart towards the bed but he grabs me and gathers me into his arms, throwing me onto the chair that I had previously been sitting on. I struggle but his arms keep me down. "You wanted to sit on the chair so bad, so sit on it."

My eyes sparkle with fright as he begins to undress himself. _This is it_, I think. _He's going back on his word. I've denied him too long and now he will rape me._ He slips off his pants but he leaves his breechcloth on.

Jacob lets me go. I sit with my knees drawn to my chest and my feet crossed. And then it happens. The towering man drops to his knees in an act of pure submission, his eyes glazed over with lust. "I want to kiss you. You must tell me where to kiss you."

My eyes widen. I say the first thing that comes to mind. "My lips."

He obliges, leaning forward and capturing my lips in a kiss full of need and want. His tongue delves between my lips, feverishly licking at my own tongue. He tastes of mint and mulled wine and it makes my knees weak with lust.

Jacob makes a dive for my lips again, sliding the tip of his tongue into my mouth, gently beginning to move it against mine. His strokes become deeper and harder but not rough or rushed. We alternate between deep and shallow, using only lips from time to time. Jacob grazes his teeth against my lips, provoking a soft moan from my mouth. He pulls away slightly, breaking away with a strand of saliva connecting our moist lips together..

He licks my saliva off of his lips slowly and sensually, never breaking eye contact with me. "Give me a different place."

I gulp and nod my head. "Kiss my breasts."

He nods swiftly, then ducks his head down, his mouth latching onto one of my nipples, taking it into his warm, hot mouth and swirling the pink bud around his tongue. He licks it a few more times before retreating to my other breast.

He sucks my nipple into his mouth, tugging softly with his lips before licking over the little pink bud. He bites it, eliciting a surprised moan out of me. His hands roam over my body as he kisses down further.

"Your stomach?" he asks. I nod my head, completely flustered. His hands reach up to grab my breasts in his hands, the soft ivory globes fitting perfectly in his large hands. He peppers kisses all over my stomach, dipping his tongue into my navel before moving down to kiss the space just below it.

I shut my eyes tightly as my most intimate place flares with heat and pounds with sensation. Wetness begins to paint my thighs. I bite my lip to encase my moan but Jacob doesn't like that. He smacks a kiss to my thigh, grabbing my attention instantly. "Let me hear your moans."

He moves back up to kiss my breasts again when I begin to touch them in lust. He kisses them, squeezes them, and licks them. "Oh, please…" I moan, a lot louder than I would have ever wanted to.

He smiles his slow, molasses smile, the corners of his mouth reaching his ears. "Tell me what you want. Where you want me to kiss you," he murmurs.

Truth is, I don't know what I want. But the heat in my southern regions is getting unbearable and all I want to do is have him touch it. And the idea of his lips pressing to my cleft makes the heat grow worse. Without saying a word, I nod my head downwards a little.

He gets the memo instantly. He lowers his face down so that his lips are only a few mere inches from it. "I'll show you how good this feels," he murmurs. Then his tongue darts out from beneath his lips and licks a stripe up my folds.

My eyes fly open and I try to sit up, clenching my thighs together on his head. It essentially traps his head between my legs. He laughs a deep, sexy laugh and forces my thighs apart with his hand. "Let me see you," he whispers huskily.

And he dives again, locking his lips on my clit and suckling it into my mouth. He tongues it and swirls the little bud in his mouth. "You don't find this sickening?" I ask between labored breaths.

He pulls back momentarily. "No, hell no. From the minute I first saw you, I knew I wanted to taste your most intimate place, feel your nectar on my tongue when you shuddered around me."

I gasp loudly when he flattens his tongue and licks me from the bottom to the top a few times. The feeling of a slimy appendage probing sweet, tender places makes me moan louder than I ever had before. I throw my head back in pleasure.

He ducks down a little bit further to my virginal entrance, dipping his tongue in and out of the little hole before latching back onto my clit and moaning, sending sweet vibrations through my body.

I reach down between my legs and grab a handful of his hair, yanking him closer to me if it's even possible. He sucks my skin into his mouth, releasing it with a soft pop before spitting on me and rubbing it in with his fingers.

"Oh!" I don't even recognize my voice when I cry out.

"Fuck yes," he growls before diving back into me. His licks and nips and sucks are bringing me to that beautiful edge again. My hips begin to automatically rock against his mouth, meeting each swipe that his tongue makes on my genitals.

I wrap my legs around his head and he grabs my waist tighter as he licks and sucks at me. When I fall, he's there to catch me, and every moan and droplet of womanly nectar I spill. Even after I've come down from my pleasure high, he's still greedily licking away at me. I hold his face in my hands and pull him up my body.

He kisses my lips and I taste myself on his tongue. He pulls back, resting his forehead upon mine. "How was it?" he asks softly.

I shake my head, my chest heaving with each heavy laden breath I take. "You don't even know how good that felt," I sigh, laughing a little. He runs his calloused hand over my breast, kissing the underside of my jaw.

"Good."

I sit up and begin to dress myself again. "How did you learn to do that? Is that what barbarian men do to their women?"

He shakes his head, leaning back on his haunches, his sweaty, glistening chest gleaming in the sunlight that pours through the open window. His hair is tousled thanks to my hands weaving in and out of it, pulling him closer and pushing him. "Not usually," he says. "I normally don't do it to my whores. She's got to be special if I decide to kiss her down there."

I can feel my face reddening like a ripened tomato. "I am…special?"

He just winks at me, and suddenly I know.

0o0o0o0o

I know, this isn't my longest chapter. But I really wanted to get it to you before I left. I won't be around for a couple of days because I'm going on vacation to my cabin up in the middle of nowhere. It has no running water, no cable, and mostly no cell service. Bye life as I know it! But hello peace and quiet. Tell me how you liked this story. When I come back I'll be pretty eager to read all of your lovely **reviews**. You guys never cease to impress me! Have a great holiday!

Courtney xx


	12. Topaz

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note**: I'm back. Thanks for the reviews that all of the kind people left me last time. Hope all your holidays were awesome! Mine were great, besides burning myself with a hot sparkler stick.

**Song**: Yup, I was listening to Braveheart soundtrack during the making of this chapter, and at some points it kind of made me cry a little… "Freedom" by James Horner.

**Chapter Twelve: **_Topaz_

It's been about one week since Snow Lion had her baby. I frequently had gone to see her, and I still do. She is fine company, and it pleases Jacob to know that I have a lovely bond with his only, and most favorite sister. But each day that I go to her, she gets paler and her voice, softer.

Snow Lion is getting weaker and weaker. She has an infection, and is in diminishing shape. Jacob's been doing badly with facing that truth. He's been drinking a lot and worrying himself beyond belief. Three Horses is also worried about his wife, but still sees Rosalie on a regular basis. He does not deserve Snow Lion.

Jacob had told me before that ever since Snow had caught the same disease that his mother and other sister had, she'd never fully recovered the right way. The doctors constantly fret over Snow Lion, even though she's convinced she'll be all right.

They say it's really a slim chance.

I pour Jacob yet another glass of wine. He's been taking his sister's illness very hard, and has been drinking up a frenzy to try and get his mind off of it. Taking the glass over to him, I see him staring absently into the fire. When night rolls around, it's cold and can be blustery, even though the days are as hot as the sun.

He takes the glass and downs it in one gulp before handing it back to me. He hasn't cried once, but the wrinkles in his forehead and the biting of his lip is telling me that he wants to, but refuses to do so in front of me. That would be a sign of weakness, and god forbid Jacob shows me his weakness.

Snow Lion has been coughing up blood. Her nightgowns are stained with it. After the delivery of the child, she had to be stitched up. The castle medics went about trying to do their bests, but it failed. The wound infected and spread through her body like a prairie fire.

It has taken Jacob all his might not to storm down there and kill the medics where they stand. He crushes his face into his hand, his eyes blazing in the firelight. I dare not say more.

"Did you hear anything else about my sister?" he asks me softly. His voice comes out husky, but wobbly. He turns his head to look at me, black eyes searching for mine.

I shake my head and look down. "She's a strong woman," I tell him, trying my hardest to be of comfort to him. "She'll make it through. She'll make it."

He laughs humorlessly before replying back to me in a cocky, arrogant tone. "She's been fucking weak ever since she was a kid," he retorts. I jump at his harsh tone. "Face the facts, 'Bella. She's…"

I shake my head. "Don't do this to yourself, Jacob. There's no way of knowing."

He looks away from abruptly, only to bury his face in his hands and grab at his hair. "Don't do this to myself. Right. My sister's dying. You telling me that she's not going to die only burns my wounds even more."

My heart is hammering in my chest. I take a deep breath, leaning my back against the bed post. "She needs you to be strong for her," I whisper. "If she saw you like this, upset and already preparing her death bed for her, she'd be terribly shaken and upset."

His fingers tug at the roots of his thick black hair. "Like she already doesn't know that she's going to die…" he groans softly.

My nails tug at my skin. "Oh, I'm not saying that, Jacob. Even if she knows, she wouldn't want to see you broken for her. I know if I were dying, I wouldn't want to see my family members distressed and upset like this. It would only make me more afraid of the unseen and the unknown. I'd want them…to be strong for me, hold my hand and smile, assuring me that everything's gonna be alright before I ascended to a greater place."

He still does not cry. He stands from his chair and turns to face me, all in his near seven-foot glory. As he comes to stand close to me, his towering body sways and he nearly collapses. His hand reaches out and braces his body against the bedpost, trapping me near him.

"Bella…" he whispers. "Who do I have to lean on?"

I rest my hand on his blazing hot peck and swallow thickly. "You have me," I say gently. "I'll do all I can to be there for you, Jacob."

He leans down a little, taking my face into his hand. "I need you." That's all he says. His eyes blaze with lust as they look down upon me. His breath smells of heavy wine and whiskey and he can't even stand up right.

"I think you should lay down for a little while," I tell him, grabbing his bicep and steadying him on his feet.

"No," he groans. "I want you, Bella. Will you not give me this?"

I grimace at his grief-stricken tone of voice. I shake my head slowly. "You're drunk, my king. This is not the kind of support you need right now."

When I try to move away, he grabs me roughly and yanks me back to him. "It's _all_ the support I need," he growls.

I look him in the eye and gulp again. The muscles in his jaw tense and bunch together when he grits his teeth, nervously and anxiously awaiting my answer. "No," I whisper. "I want you to lay down and gather your thoughts."

"Oh, fuck me!" He pushes me away so hard that I tumble backwards, landing hard on the floor and cracking my head against the wardrobe. "You deny me even when I need you most. "What a lousy bed thrall you are."

The venom in his voice surprises me. I want to cry, but I realize that he's hurting badly. I hang my head a little and bite my lip. I can feel blood trickling down my forehead. "I'm sorry."

His face softens a little at the sight of my blood. He reaches out for me before quickly snatching his hand away like the air was poison. "You are to stay here at all times," he hisses. "You shall not speak to another person, you shall not even look at another person. If I come back to see you gone, there will be no end to my wrath."

Then he goes, slamming the door behind him. I slump against the wall. I think it's best to treat the wound before it festers and infects.

0o0o0o0o

I've been locked in my darkening room for over an hour. I've lit a sweet, vanilla smelling candle to help me to see in the darkness I wonder where he is, because it is night and it is not like him to wander about in the odd hours. It is not like him to go to sleep past nine o' clock either. He loves his rest.

I wear a wet cloth over the wound on my forehead, my curly hair swept up into a maid's bun. I have become utterly bored due to the fact that over the course of that hour, I have gone about with my candle in hand, reading through every book Jacob has left in bedroom, exploring every nook and cranny, and just about documenting every particle of dust in the room.

I'm desperate to free myself from this dark and desolate hole. I stand on my feet, still a bit wobbly and dizzy from where I'd hit my head. I make my way over to his desk with my little stub of a candle that has been melted down over the long, treacherous hour, where all his belongings and jewels from the raids sit. I see the little wooden box that holds the Silvertongue, and the ruby and emerald necklaces thrown into a pile on the other side of it.

I look for a key, anything that could help me. I sift through various parchment scrolls, and jewels, and trinkets from commoner's houses with no such luck of finding that sweet golden key that would liberate me from these bounds. I collapse into the chair that sits beneath the desk, my head slinging forwards into my ready hands.

My fingers comb through my curls in distress until they hit the messy bun that I wove sloppily while trying to get my hair out of my face so that I could properly treat my wound. They feel the pins that hold my hair there and suddenly I have an idea.

I tug a pin from my hair, holding it in front of my age. I narrow my eyes at it, glancing to the door handle, and then back at the pin. A light bulb seems to illuminate in my mind. I hurriedly tug the rest of the pins out of my hair, letting my mane of tightly wound corkscrew curls fall around my heart-shaped face.

I choose one trusty pin out of the pile on Jacob's desk and rush to the door with my candle. I shove it into the little keyhole and work it around in odd angles, pushing and turning at different intervals. Just when I start to think that my plan may not work, I hear a little 'click' and from my mouth emits a satisfied sound.

I turn the handle of the door, glancing around in the hallway for any maids, servants or lustful warriors lurking the darkened corridors. I see no one. I drop the pin on the floor and touch my hammering heart to make sure that I really want to go through with this. Jacob's warning was very clear that if he came back to find me gone, I would be severely punished.

Just down the hallway, I hear a loud cry. It is a woman's cry, and she sounds like she's in pain. My ears pick up the noise and instantly I am intrigued. Why does she scream so? Is she being raped?

I shut Jacob's door behind me, holding up the candle to see around me before tiptoeing down the hallway as quietly as humanly possible. As I walk the corridors, my nightgown dragging upon the dirty floors, the screams get louder with the echoes bouncing exuberantly off of the stone walls.

As I walk, I notice that this hallway must be off limits. There are no windows, except for a small, round hole that is very much so out of anyone's reach. There are not many rooms, but there are many closed doors, creating an even darker hallway, the only light being from the window high above.

It casts a beam of pale moonlight upon me in the darkness. The cries get louder as I near a slightly ajar door. With my curiosity nearly bubbling over, I use two gentle fingers to push open the door and look inside.

It's also dark, the only light being a dim fire crackling in the corner. I can't see the two people on the bed, but I can guess what they're doing. The woman's cries were ones of pleasure, and not pain. Silky white legs tangle in longer, copper toned legs.

I can see the shadow on the wall when he thrusts into her, grabbing fistfuls of her long hair and yanking her head back. "You want me?" The question is almost inaudible due to its gruffness.

The breathy answer sounds a moment later. "Oh yes, I want you. Fuck me harder, please!"

I hear him slamming into her at a frenzied pace. Her mewls and cries of pleasure echo throughout the hallway. "Oh, Gods…" I hear the man say. He pushes her down harder, slapping her face.

"Oh do it again," the woman cries out. "How I love the pain!" So he does it again, causing her head to whip to one side. He grabs her legs and wraps them around his waist to get closer to her. He pounds into her, dragging fire through every single one of her veins.

Suddenly the man slows his pace and tugs the woman upwards so that she's sitting in his lap with his chest against her back. His long black hair spills down his back as he unloads himself into her body. And then something happens that I do not expect. "Oh my _king_," she whimpers. "You are powerful, all mighty."

My eyes widen and I weakly refrain from gasping once I see that the man that was with the harem girl was none other than Jacob. My eyes are wet with unshed tears. I don't know why I want to cry. He was never mine.

He pushes her off of him. The woman, I now recognize as Athenodora. He makes his way off of the bed to get his breechcloth. I quickly run down the corridor with my candle in hand, desperate to get out of sight. I blow out the candle's light as I rush into a corner so that he doesn't see me.

Just when I think I'm done for, he strides right past our room and down the hallway. He probably wishes to see Snow Lion. I take the opportunity to dart back to the room.

0o0o0o0o

Another hour later, I find myself still awake and just staring blankly at a wall when Jacob comes in. I'm beyond past the point of being upset, and now I'm frankly irked by the fact that when I rejected him, he used Athenodora to be his punching bag. Not that I wanted to be his punching bag, either.

"How do you feel?" I ask through gritted teeth. He just stands there at the door, staring into the fire. "Did you get your _fix_ from some other woman?"

He still says nothing. That bothers me more than him retorting something mean right back at me. His face is passive and I can't read a single emotion off of it. His fists clench and unclench at his side.

I frown, looking down at my hands briefly before snapping my eyes back up to his. "Well, say something—"

"Mysister'sdead." The words come out in a jumble.

"What?" I cock my head to the side in confusion. I'm almost afraid that I heard something that I didn't want to hear.

He takes a deep breath before repeating it slower this time. "My sister's…_dead_." I did.

I stand up from my chair immediately. My mouth hangs slack and my arms are stretched at my sides. "Jacob, I…"

He holds up his hand. "Don't," he hisses maliciously at me. "I don't want your pity. Just leave me alone." Then he strides over to his desk and sits down at it, unlocking a large silver box and dropping a pretty necklace into it. It's a orange topaz necklace, one that I recognize that Snow Lion had had on when I first spoke to her. There were three others of the same necklace in the box.

Then he hands me a new necklace, gesturing for me to put it on. Not knowing what to do, I oblige and slip the topaz necklace over my head. Shaking hands grab the box and dump out all of the necklaces across the table.

"When I was four, my father raided a jeweler's bazaar out on the countryside and brought back these necklaces," he whispers. "There were five necklaces. I kept two and gave the other four to my sisters, White Fawn and mother. It was perfect for them because the orange topaz looked like fire…and the women of my family were all forged of fire and strength."

I look down at my necklace. It is beautiful, a golden swirl of metal keeping the beautiful translucent jewel in place. I look back at him. He's still sifting through the necklaces.

He sighs. "Over the years, I've gradually gotten them returned. First Gentle Raven's…then my mother's and White Fawn's, and now Snow Lion's. I thought foolishly that a part of their souls would be kept in the topaz even after they left the tangible world, that I could keep them with me still." He buries his head in his hands. "I lose everyone that I love."

I still clutch the little jewel around my neck like it is my lifeline. Tears sparkle at my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. "If you want to cry, I'll…"

He whips around with fire in his eyes. "You want me to cry. You asked me that same question earlier, even when my sister was alive. Do you want me to feel more pain than I already have?"

I jump a little at his tone of voice. I breathe a sigh. "Sometimes it's best to let it all go."

His face is twisted in agony. "What would you know about losing someone?" he murmurs accusingly.

I gasp in shock at his words. "My whole family's dead thanks to your men," I hiss at him. "I know everything there is to know about losing people that are close to you!"

And then my own tears come, pouring down my cheeks when I least expect it. I do not move to cover them in shame, or look away. Instead my brown eyes lock with his steely black ones.

He embraces me in his arms, burying his nose in my neck. He inhales my scent deep through his nostrils and tries to gather his thoughts does not cry. For some odd reason, Jacob still is adamant about keeping his emotion concealed beneath his thick skin.

He shakes with his sadness. I reach down to wrap him in my arms and pull him close. "Never leave me," he mumbles. "You must promise to never leave me."

My voice is shaky from crying and falters a little. "I…I promise. Know that I w-will never l-leave you."

He picks me up into his arms and goes to the bed and lays me down beside him. My face is on his breast and his chin rests on my head while he tries to gather his thoughts. "Why does it feel so _empty_? Can you answer me that, my tigress?" he murmurs softly.

"When you lose someone very close to you, it can be very hard to recover." I tell him.

"Menene zai cika komai na sarari, to, ku?" he asks me quietly. _(What will fill my empty space, then?)_

I look up at him slowly and lick my lips. He looks down at me, tucking his chin a little. "Zan, idan ka so shi." _(I will, if you wish it.)_

His hand curls around my neck and touches the jewel resting there. "Kada a kai wannan kashe ... ba har sai mutuwa ta sassa da mu." _(Never take this off…not until death parts us.)_

I nod my head slowly. "Okay. I…how do you say promise in your language?"

"Alkawari."

"Okay. Na yi alkawari." _(I promise.)_

He buries his face in my neck. "I am so sorry about earlier. It was a rash decision. The whore meant nothing to me, I just needed…_something_. I'm glad you refused me."

I find myself smiling instantly. Why was I ever mad at him for that again? I've never been so forgiving before, and the idea of it is so foreign that it shakes me. "Think nothing of it. You were hurting, that's all."

He kisses my cheek before he gives a sigh. "You must promise me just one more thing," he whispers to me, brushing a wisp of my curly brown hair out of my eyes.

I nod my head in return. "Anything you wish."

"This emptiness…" he murmurs, his voice contemplating. "I never want to feel it again."

I breathe against his chest, wiping my eyes with the corner of his finger. "Then you never shall."

0o0o0o0o

I sit still the next morning as he lathers blue and white paintings onto my skin. Blue is the color for peace and the white is the color for mourning and wishing the deceased off to the afterlife. I stand, wearing my white silks and sapphire jewels. The topaz still remains around my neck. I have made a promise to never take it off, and I plan to keep my promise in tact.

He leads me out the door, beckoning me to follow him. Today is the day of the funeral. Jacob has not said one word to me all morning, and I don't pressure him. I know how hard this must be. We walk down the hallway and to the outside of the castle. Snow Lion is positively beautiful, dressed in white robes adorned with blue ribbons and jewels. She wears her crown on her head, like the true princess she was.

I can see the pain in Jacob's eyes as they roam over his deceased sister's body, lying peacefully in the open coffin filled to the brim with white and blue flower petals. Iron Coyote stands near him, his face as hard as a rock but sadness in his eyes. They lift the coffin onto the long boat and settle it into the water.

Snow Lion's maids and servants cry for the loss. Everyone in the castle knew that she was a gentle and kind woman to all. Three Horses, now widowed, cries for his dead wife. The child that they had is nowhere to be found. A servant walks to up to Jacob and hands him the torch, lit with fire. His face contorts with sadness and pain.

He looks down at me for something. I don't know what to do. If I were in his place, I would be feeling the exact same way. Instead of looking away, I wipe the tears from my eyes and nod slowly. He steps forward with the torch and slowly makes his way over to his sister's still body. Three Horses follows him. He leans down and kisses her head, and Three Horses does the same.

Then Jacob touches the torch to the edge of the boat, watching as it lights up with the bright orange flame. He grits his teeth together harshly before dipping the torch into the water and nudging the burning boat out into the water with the tip of his toe.

He returns to my side almost immediately. I lean against his arm and he lets me into his embrace. The boat burns out on the water, lifting Snow Lion's spirit all the way up to the afterlife. I am used to going to burials back home, but this funeral is so much more symbolic. Instead of hiding one's body away beneath the earth for an eternity, these people believe that by burning the deceased, their ashes with rise up into the sky to be once again whole in their afterlife.

He is shaking violently now. Suddenly, Jacob turns on his heel and strides into the castle. I chase him inside, calling out his name relentlessly but he still does not stop to wait for me. People begin to file inside once the boat begins to sink and Snow Lion's body turns to ashes. Petals and ashes scatter on the wind.

In I go after him, wanting to comfort him and hold him in my arms. He paces the length of his bedroom, clutching his head in his hands. "What do I do?" he murmurs. "She's gone. She's really gone now, 'Bella."

I gulp. "I want you to understand that she'll always be with you in your heart," I tell him, laying a palm over his heated chest. "She's never left you. Neither did Gentle Raven, your mother, or White Fawn."

Seeing Jacob's hardened features make me realize that he still hasn't cried over the loss of his last female family member. He looks at me. "I haven't cried in such a long time. You're right," he mumbles. "You must think me insensitive." He gives a humorless laugh. "I am."

Just witnessing the pain laced through his voice, and the evident agony in his steel brown eyes, my eyes begin to become wet once more with tears. I sniff rather loudly when a tear comes rumbling down my cheek. "You're not insensitive," I whisper to him. "You've no time to cry. People are always counting you to be the strong one. But you don't have to be anymore. Not in here, Jacob. In here you cry all you want, and I'll hold you until my arms fall off.

Jacob looks upon me with bewilderment before shutting his eyes and collapsing to his knees. His arms reach out and pull me in, mashing his face against my stomach and hugging me close. And then it happens. The tears come rolling down his face and he inhales the much-needed breath of air. My arms instantly fly around him and gather him closer to my body.

"Oh Gods," he cries. His hands clutch at my white silks and tear them from my body. I do not cry or stop him from doing so. I stay in my place, holding him and letting him strip me naked. I know he will not try to take me.

Once his breechcloth comes off, I realize the symbolism of being naked against him. He wants to be as close to me as possible, and me allowing him to do so has calmed him greatly. I sit in his lap and his head just lies limply on my chest as he cries.

I cradle him in my arms. He has been so neglected. His mother died when he was young, and the last mother figure in his life, his sister Snow Lion, has now gone off to join the other ladies of his family. He was whipped mercilessly by his father, taunted and tormented by his older brother after what happened to White Fawn, and left a gold throne to sit and grin and bear it after the life of hell he'd spent living. He has no woman to lean on but me, and I'm determined to be there.

His burning hands roam my backside, tugging me even closer yet. He explores the soft skin of my breasts and thighs, just reveling in grandeur from the touch. He kisses the necklace on my neck. "You are the last one," he tells me. "If I lose you…I wouldn't know how to go on."

I kiss his temple, my hand stroking his long hair comfortingly. "Then you shall never lose me." He looks up into my eyes, his brown orbs searching mine. I gulp and swallow the thick bubble of air that had been building in my throat. I nod my head. "My friend, the one I told you about before, said not to commit yourself to a man unless you really love him."

He leans his head back against the chair and settles me on his lap. I can feel his cock hardening against my thigh. "And…do you love me, little one?"

I take a deep breath before nodding my head quickly. "Oh yes. I love you," I tell him.

A broken smile spreads across his face. "Alright then. I…I love you as well." His hands settle on the soft swell of my hips. "What else did your wise friend say?"

My hands reach up to cradle his face in my hands. "She told me that…after you decided you love the man, you can decide to give yourself to him." I'm afraid. My heart is pounding. But just by looking at this man, I know that there is nothing to be afraid about. "Yes, my love, I'm giving myself to you."

He shakes his head and strokes a finger down my cheek. "No. No, you don't have to do this just because I'm hurting."

I press my body into his. "I'm not. You said, 'when I'm ready.' I'm ready now, Jacob. Make love to me."

0o0o0o0o

Thanks for reading! **Reviews** would be just dandy. (:

Courtney xx


	13. Question

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the OUTSTANDING amount of reviews I received on the last chapter! Some of you might be pleased with the way this chapter goes, and some of you may not be. I kind of intended the last bit of the last chapter to be a trick and I kind of realized that's a little cruel based on all the different reactions lol. Anyways, with all thoughts aside, love Barbarian Jacob and enjoy the ultra-quick update.

This chapter is dedicated to a very special author.

**Chapter Thirteen: **_Question_

_I gulp and swallow the thick bubble of air that had been building in my throat. I nod my head. "My friend, the one I told you about before, said not to commit yourself to a man unless you really love him."_

_He leans his head back against the chair and settles me on his lap. I can feel his cock hardening against my thigh. "And…do you love me, little one?"_

_I take a deep breath before nodding my head quickly. "Oh yes. I love you," I tell him. _

_A broken smile spreads across his face. "Alright then. I…I love you as well." His hands settle on the soft swell of my hips. "What else did your wise friend say?"_

_My hands reach up to cradle his face in my hands. "She told me that…after you decided you love the man, you can decide to give yourself to him." I'm afraid. My heart is pounding. But just by looking at this man, I know that there is nothing to be afraid about. "Yes, my love, I'm giving myself to you."_

_He shakes his head and strokes a finger down my cheek. "No. No, you don't have to do this just because I'm hurting."_

_I press my body into his. "I'm not. You said, 'when I'm ready.' I'm ready now, Jacob. Make love to me."_

"Bella. Bella!"

Suddenly I gasp, my eyes flying open and I'm jolting in his lap. He looks confused by my actions, but I too am confused. Did I really just say that to him? I can't tell. Oh, I must have been dreaming. I must have been. He called my name. Perhaps I zoned out. I think I did.

But the thing is, it all felt so real. It didn't seem like I was dreaming, but I apparently was…because I don't remember telling him I ever loved him or wanted to make love to him, or seeing the look on his face when I told him to 'go on ahead.'

What did my tiny daydream truly mean? It must have meant something. In my daydream I was so positive about what I wanted—him. I don't think that I could have ever been that brazen.

"What's the matter? I called your name several times and you still didn't hear me." He says to me. I shake my head. It's nothing. I'm honestly confused. Do I love him? Does he love me too? Or is it just another product of my imagination? Do I want him like he wants me?

I lean back in his lap. In my dizzy mindset only a few moments before, I brushed something off that was not meant to be brushed so easily off. "When you left in a hurry last night…you went and saw another woman."

Almost immediately I see the guilt shining in his eyes. "I was drunk. I told you I was sorry." I sigh and climb off of his lap. He looks distraught by the action and reaches to pull me back. I lunge out of the way and start to put my silks back on. I don't mean to hurt him. I only want to cover myself.

I shrug my shoulders, slipping the breast cloth and genital cloth on before wrapping the silks around my body. "I didn't really address it before because I didn't want to fight again. But it still does hurt…seeing you with her."

His face pales. "You…you saw me with her?"

At first I do not know if I want to start this conversation, but I find myself nodding before I can stop myself. "I went to look for you after being locked in the room for several hours…and I just saw something I wasn't supposed to see."

His shoulders droop and he sighs, his tone laden with guilt and culpability. "I don't desire her like I desire you. With Athenodora, it's just a desire of the flesh."

I find myself frowning at him. "You desire my flesh too. You've told me that one on countless occasions."

He glances up at me, noticing the bit of humor laced in my tone. "But with you," he begins, reaching forwards from his chair and grasping my hands tightly in his. "It's both. I desire your flesh as much as I desire your respect and your love. I truly had no right."

I squeeze his hand in mine before dropping it back to his side as I pin my white silks into place with a blue pin. I sigh softly. "You get to have your way with any woman you like while I'm stuck in here, not allowed to speak to any man without your permission."

Now he's frowning. "I have reason for that. Do you want to end up getting raped, Isabella? I've saved you from that fate twice. My men cannot be trusted."

What he says is true, I cannot deny that fact. I am truly grateful for his protection, and I was also truly grateful for his protection at those times of my need. I exhale and nod my head. "But what of Black Bear? You wrongfully attacked him and now he's deathly afraid of me because of you. I don't like being feared." I blush a little, smiling at his bewildered expression. I don't think he finds it so funny.

He grits his teeth, his jaw crunching together. "I am feared always." He leans forwards in his great, bear skin chair, and naked as the day he was born. "I am the ruthless king of the barbarian tribes of the western wilds. No man does not go to bed without having at least one nightmare about me."

I look up at him in interest. "It is your own fault. If you did not steal from the innocent kingdoms, perhaps they would not hate and fear you. Mayhap…they would learn to love you if you provided them protection of some sort. I suppose you could make an ally."

He stands with a humorless laugh and ties his breechcloth around his waist. "Allies? I have no tolerance of other leaders who call my people barbarians and spit on our names. I can understand how you feel about this matter, but I have known nothing else. I was born of blood and theft."

I move closer towards him. "Then let them know you are a good man. Let them know that you are a _great_ king. I've seen it first hand. You've made me…change my mind about you."

He smiles at my last comment, but then his attitude changes and he humorlessly snorts. "I've a thousand year reputation. Makes no difference whether I change now. I am still a beast in their eyes, and I shall at least uphold it."

"Jacob—"

He holds his hand up and shakes his head. "Don't." Then he tosses some dirty clothes into a basket and tosses it to me. "I have to go to a meeting. Do the laundry out by the river, and then put it back here when you are done. I should be finished with the meeting in a little over an hour."

I give him a look. "Am I your maid now? You found use in me while I was comforting you, but now you treat me like a slave, telling me to off and do your dirty laundry."

"You are not a maid," he insists, huffing like a child that's explained something over and over again. "But I've treated you like a princess for a very long time. It's time you do work. Even the harem girls work. _Every_ woman in my kingdom works. And don't spit that 'my kingdom does not do that' back at me because I'm tired of you comparing measly Forks to my land."

I huff at him and pick up the basket. "I've no problem with doing the laundry," I tell him. "And I've no problem with upholding my womanly duties. I demand to not be ordered around."

He looks at me in shock at first, but then breaks into a slow smile. "You are just like my mother; fiery, fierce, strong. I will be back soon."

Before I can shoot something back at him, he captures my lips. And all negative thoughts and feelings melt away in the passion. He breaks away from our kiss, and I follow him out the door without a sound, the basket of clothes tucked firmly under my arm.

We part in the hallway. He goes off towards the War Tactics and Strategies room and I go off towards the back of the castle, where the maids and servants walk out to take care of the gardens, the animals, and the clothes.

The river is where all women, title and all, go to wash their clothes or get a drink. The sun beats down on me, showering me in heat as my bare-feet pad through the dry grass and dirt until I reach the river, shaded partly in the forest. The other ladies are there doing laundry as well.

I kneel by Angelina, who is also washing clothes for Drinks of Waterfall. "Hello!" She greets me with a pleasant smile and a warm hug. "I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Well," I reply. "But Jacob's been distraught over the loss of his sister. I can't blame him. She was a good, and kind woman."

Angelina nods and pulls a dark green tunic out of the river, lays it into a flat stone and scrubs a bar of soap onto it. She looks up at me and smiles. "Your necklace is very pretty. Did Jacob give it to you?"

My hand goes around the topaz sitting on my neck. I nod my head. I take out a pair of deerskin pants and dip them in the river. "Mind if I use your soap?"

Angelina shakes her head. "No, not at all."

I scrub the pants with the soap, lathering it in bubbles. Angelina dips another shirt into the water next to me. "You know, I've heard much about that necklace."

I look over at her with interest. "And what did you hear?"

"That it is the trophy necklace," Angelina replies. "Any woman who is lucky enough to get the topaz necklace is said to be very important to our king."

I breathe in and out very slowly. "Is that so?"

She nods her head. "Very so." She wipes sweat off of her forehead and sighs. "I've been out here for an hour. Embry has a lot of clothes."

I smile weakly. "Does he?"

Angelina nods her head. "I suppose it's better to have me clean his clothes than to have him be dirty." She clutches at her stomach briefly before leaning back down to pull another shirt out of the water.

I cast a side-glance towards her. "Are you all right?" I ask her. She looks pale in the sunlight, and incredibly weak.

She nods her head. "Oh yes. I'm very much okay." I nod my head, not asking any more questions. Soon I find myself through half the basket of clothes with sweat on my back and fatigue rising.

I reach up to wipe my forehead. Beside me, Angelina groans and clutches at her stomach. I frown at her. "You're not telling me something. Are you going to faint? You look pale."

She shakes her head. She squeezes a bundle of clothes and wrings the water out of them. "Isabella, you must promise me that you will not tell a soul about what I am about to tell you."

This startles me. I sit back on my haunches and throw the clean clothes into the basket behind me. "Alright. I promise."

She sighs and grabs my hand. "I…I am with child."

I gasp rather loudly, causing Angelina to clamp a hand over my mouth. "Shh, my lady! You are much too loud."

I move her hand from my mouth. "And does he know?"

Angelina nods her head slowly. "Of course he knows. He sees every inch of my body, takes notice of every little thing…including when I missed my second month of virtue blood."

I'm anxious to know. "And…what did he say?"

She looks to the ground. "He was…he was nonchalant. It was like he almost didn't care. Oh Isabella, I was terrified of what he'd say. If he'd stop loving me, or just throw me back into the harem. But he didn't, and that was what surprised me the most!"

I've heard terrible stories of women being thrown back to the harem when a man unintentionally made a woman pregnant. She would have to fend for herself with no support from the child's father, and the child would grow up without a father figure in his life. No, that isn't what I want to happen to Angelina _or_ me.

I look down at her stomach. It protrudes a little, but not too much. "How far along are you?" I ask her. "You don't look very big."

"Alice said that I was about three months into the pregnancy," Angelina explains. "She said that I probably got pregnant around the time that we first got here."

I nod my head. It's probably guaranteed that I would be pregnant too if I'd allowed Jacob to take me when he wanted to. I lick my dry lips. "I wish you the best pregnancy. I'll pray to the Gods that Drinks of Waterfall keeps you by his side…though I really know that he will."

She blushes and nods her head. She picks up her wicker basket and holds it in her arms. "Well, I ought to take this laundry inside. It was nice talking to you again, Isabella. I wish you the best of luck with Dances With Wolves."

I nod my head and smile back at her. I finish washing Jacob's close, and then I begin to haul the heavy basket up the great grass hill to hang them on the clothesline. I set down the basket and hang the clothes on the twine rope that hangs across a few trees. I reach up to hand a white shirt onto the line when a heavy body collides into mine, knocking me onto the ground.

I hear a gasp, and then I look up. It's Black Bear. "Na tuba," he gruffly manages out, offering a shaking hand. I take it and stand up from where I was on the ground. I wipe the dirt off of my dress and look up at him. _(I'm sorry.)_

"Daidai de mana, da kuwa hadari." I say with a small smile. I look him up and down. "Ka yi kama kana cikin sauri." _(It's all right, it was just an accident. You look like you're in a hurry.)_

He nods his head. "Raye-raye da wolves ba ya so in yi magana da kai. A gaskiya ma, sai ya ce zai kasha mu idan mun yi magana da kai," he says matter-of-factly. Then he folds his arms over his chest. "Kuma… kamar kamar kana so in aka kasha su." _(Dances With Wolves doesn't want me to speak to you. In fact, he says he will kill us if we speak to you. And…it seems like you want me to get killed.)_

I frown at him, my fists clenching at my side. "Ina ne kawai da abokantaka! Ka sani, kai ne mutum na fari na sadu a nan abin da ya ba kokarin fyade da ni." _(I'm only being friendly! You know, you're the first man I've met here that hasn't tried to rape me.)_

This changes him slightly. "Me ya sa kake so ka zama abokai da ni? Mace ke ba ya so ya zama aboki na da sai dai idan tana son wani abu daga gare ni." _(Why do you want to be friends with me? A woman's never wanted to be my friend before unless she wanted something from me.)_

I frown, placing my hands on my hips. "Ina so kawai ka dogara." I explain. "Na yi maka alkawari ba za ta mutu idan kana da irin kawai a gare ni…da kai ne." _(I only want your trust. I promise you won't die if you're only being kind to me…which you are.)_

His brows furrow together. "Mu ne abokai?" _(We are friends?)_

I nod my head. "Na'am. Mu ne abokai." _(Yes. We are friends.)_

A distant shouting causes him to jump in his place. He gives me a look of kindness before he leaves. I finish hanging the clothes on the clothesline.

0o0o0o0o

I sit with my wine in my hand, sipping it graciously from time to time. It's midday and Jacob's sleeping naked in his bed. He's locked the door, so I have no possible way of getting out to do something actually productive.

He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. His hair is fanned out on the pillows around him. His muscles bunch and jump when he jerks in his sleep slightly. Things are running about my mind, since I've nothing to do but sit there, drink, and think about some things. They are questions that I find unanswered.

I want to ask why he showed me such kindness on the first night we met while the other men treated me like scum, dirt on the bottoms of the soles of their feet. I want to ask why he told me to go sit on his brother's lap only to be fondled and choked in front of the whole entire dining table, why he said nothing until I confronted him.

I want to ask him why he showed no concern over me until my nails found my skin, and why his face fell like rain from heavy clouds when I began to cry over it.

I want to ask why he would cut out his own soldier's heart for the lowly whore that was supposed to be pleasing him but wasn't…why he found it easier to hold his fist to his own brother's face instead of letting Iron Coyote rape me.

I want to ask Angelina when she fell in love with Drinks of Waterfall and if she knew, or really could have known her own heart before he gave her his. Instead I lean back against the chair and let the wind blow in from the window, hoping that it would whisper to me the answers he never says.

I sip more of my wine, my dizzy spell intensifying. I want to ask all the characters in the books I've read if the hero ever got bored of his lover once evil vanquished and rode off into the sunset alone, without looking back.

I want to ask him why he has any right to scale the perimeters of the steps I took while locked up in my tower when it was he, himself who put me there. I want to ask him why he has any right to make me feel this way when he was the one that trapped me with his kind smile and gentle touch.

I want to ask him if wine has the power to reveal the hearts of boys and men and if it could tell me as much as the scars on his back or the look in his eyes when he speaks so gloriously of the ones he's lost.

I want to ask him why he made the claim speech with my rapist's heart in his hand only to turn around and fuck another woman…why he even cares about a mousy young commoner girl that's supposed to be a whore, out there for everybody to sample like a sweet dessert served up on a golden plate.

I want to ask him why he gave me the topaz necklace (the great trophy) when he could have given it to any other woman in the world (or the many eligible beauties lusting after him) instead of me.

But instead, I sit back and continue to call him a barbarian, a bandit, and thief. And when he asks me what he's stolen, it's never the truth. I always have some feeble list that goes on and on about his wrong-doings, the jewels, the furniture, the paintings, and the lives he's stolen…but I've forgotten the most important thing.

What truly makes him a thief is that he's stolen something of mine. Something so guarded and kept away that one would have to be a true mastermind to steal it.

My heart.

And with that, I decide that I love Jacob, ruthless king of the barbarians, great thief of kingdoms far and wide, and slayer of men. I touch the topaz sitting around my neck. It is the great trophy, the one that I have long awaited.

He stirs in his bed. "Love…Bella," he mumbles in his sleep. I gasp, my hand flying over my fluttering heart. There's my answer. He does love me. And in my daydream earlier in the morning, I remember what my married friend Mrs. Smythe told me about love. She said not to commit myself to a man unless I truly loved him.

Do I love Dances With Wolves, the great king?

Yes. I do.

And I after I decided I loved that man? She said that I would be able to fully give myself to him, body and soul. I stand from my seat and take off my clothes until I am as naked as the day I was born.

Jacob's tossing and turning in his sleep. He tosses and turns so much that he sits completely upright in the bed, having had woken himself up. His eyes catch the sight of my body as the terrified brown color melts into a molten black, one that's filled to the brim with lust.

"What are you doing?" he breathes softly, hands roaming over linen sheets to unsheathe himself from beneath the covers of his bed.

What _am_ I doing? "I've made a decision," I tell him. "It's about you and me."

His teeth grit together and he clutches the blankets tighter. "Do not tempt me, vixen," he warns. "You don't want to take that step, but yet you stand there before me in all your womanly glory looking so utterly… _in reach_."

I nod my head, my curls tumbling and bouncing about my shoulders. "That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I think I do want to take that step. You said that you wouldn't touch me unless I was truly ready. I'm ready now."

He gets out of bed, revealing to me the obvious erection beneath his breechcloth. "Are you?" he asks softly, temptingly. I nod my head and place one hand on his chiseled stomach, right above the head of his erection. With a quick and startled intake of breath, he looks down at me with his lustful eyes. He leans down close to my ear, his lips grazing my cheek. "Because once I start, I cannot will myself to stop."

I tilt my head back, allowing him to kiss along the arch of my neck. "You will make love to me," I state, my voice husky with wanting. My southern regions flare dangerously and I desperately feel the need to press myself up against his hard body. "You will not fuck another woman, and you will not see another whore. I shall not…tolerate it."

I moan when his warm hand finds my breasts and squeezes them softly. "Good girl," his deep bass rumbles in my ear. "Claim me as your own as I have claimed you. Give me your body as I will give you mine."

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. His lips take mine, his tongue plunging into mine, delving into crevices unknown before. My hands roam down his back and dig into his muscled buttocks, slamming his pelvic region into mine. I'm a virgin, but I know what I want, and where I want it.

The pleasure-pain swirling in my veins is getting almost unbearable. I want to be filled, impaled, and have the sense of being whole again. We make our way over to the bed and he throws me onto the covers with a fierce passion he's never displayed before. It's nothing compared to how rough he was with Athenodora, but the animalistic look in his eye scares me a little.

"I'm here, my tigress." Jacob's deep, smooth bass flows through my ears like sweet honey. He slips a hand between our bodies and touches me where the want is most prominent. I throw my head back and cry out.

"Oh please!"

He brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks the nectar off of them. His lips glisten with my wetness. He's tasted me again. "You are so wet," he murmurs, diving back down to kiss my neck. He lifts his knee between my legs to momentarily satisfy the ache. "So ready for me."

My wetness paints his knee as I writhe against him. Soft skin against hard muscles. Heavy breathing, partially lidded eyes, lips all over. "Oh, Jacob."

His erection stands so tall that it almost hits his stomach. It is impressive when soft, but when excited it is even more impressive, if that is even possible. He jerks himself a few times, never breaking eye contact with me. "Think of the pleasure I shall bring you," he whispers to me. "Think of me inside of you, dragging fire throughout your veins, making you call out my name so sweetly. Are you?"

His knee moves again, touching against a very heated spot. I cry out again, my back arching, thrusting my breasts into the air. He grabs them, his lips kissing the nipples before leaning back again. "Yes!" I cry out. "I am. I am thinking of it."

His hands grab my waist more firmly and he pulls me against him tightly, letting his cock touch my mound for the very first time. It sends electric shocks through both of our bodies. "And are you ready for me?" he asks, his voice laden with lust and need and desire.

"My mother always said it would hurt," I whisper.

Jacob looks to my face and slowly nods his head. "It will hurt for a few seconds, but I promise you, my love, I will make you feel so good."

I smile and reach up to grab his face in my hands. "And you will make love to me?"

He nods so surely. "I will make love to you until the sun shines no longer and the stars and moon are riding high into the sky."

I find his hand slithering its way over to grab mine. He holds my hand as he positions his cock at my virgin entrance, his body shaking with anticipation. He looks into my eyes, reaching down and grabbing the back of my neck in his free hand.

I'm afraid, but I know that I want this as much as he does. I glance down as the tip of his cock pushes through the tight hole. He fights to keep his control. My eyes are wild. "No," he scolds me, tilting my head up to his. "Look at me. Only me."

I look at him, only him, and take a deep breath.

"Good," he whispers. "Never take your eyes from mine. Know that love comes in from the eyes. Know that I already love you, Tiger Claw."

I nod my head. "And I you, Dances With Wolves."

And that is all the encouragement he needs.

0o0o0o0o

I know, I'm an evil person to do this to you guys. At least those who wished sex in this chapter got a bit of it…anyways, bring forth the virtual pie throwing, lol. BUT, this time I promise you sex in the next chapter. This is no dream, it's actually happening. **Review** and tell me what you thought of this chapter, **review** and tell me how mean I've been, or just **review** and tell me what you think or want to happen next. Thanks so much! I love you guys.

Courtney xx


	14. Prey

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note: **I'm so very pleased with the amount of reviews I'd received on Sinful Seduction's last chapter. You guys seriously rock. My inspiration and muse is like, really high right now! Maybe taller than the Empire State building. So with portrayals, I've had some more suggestions. Here's where we stand with Jacob: _Taylor Lautner, Steven Strait and Jason Momoa. _Can I just say hell yes? Right now for Jacob I'm picturing **Steven Strait** with Tay's personality and Jason's body. Someone mentioned him to me and for a really long time I couldn't put the right face to Jake in my mind. Hey, Steven. Sexy f*ckin beast. And for Bella we have: _Kristen Stewart, Emmy Rossum, and Troian Bellisario._ You can pick. I don't care. Well, onto chapter fourteen (boy are we getting up there in chaps!). I'm not that good at writing scenes like this, so I hope you're not disappointed in me… Onward!

**Song**: Never I Knew I Needed by Ne-Yo. I think it kind of really describes them perfectly. (:

_For the way you took the idea that I had of everything that I wanted to have and made me see there was something missing._

**Setting**: OK, so Sinful Seduction is set in like a 13th century Europe kind of area. And I don't care that people don't talk modern-like if it's in the 13th century. Then it would all be hard for y'all to read. "Wherefore art thou Jacob? O looketh yonder to see thy beauty. Ha ha! Madeth thou look. " Blech. Lmao.

**Chapter Fourteen: **_Prey_

I feel the tearing inside of me as he pushes through my virginal barrier and sheathes himself in me until the tip of his cock hits my cervix. I cry out in shock and try to bury my face in his shoulder. He keeps his hand under my chin, his eyes never off of my mine. "Look at me, Isabella. Look at me until the pain washes away." I look into his eyes.

It's done. I'm no longer a virgin because…because I gave my virginity to the one I love. Jacob. I shift uncomfortably beneath him for a few seconds, getting adjusted to the pain of having him sheathed so largely in somewhere so small and tight. I can tell his restraint is faulty and his resolve is quickly shattering the more I shift around in his arms.

As the pain fades away, I experimentally thrust my hips up a little. He gasps and his eyes, the ones he'd promised not to close, slam shut. "Ohhh Gods." I'd really never heard him moan like that before, and needless to say it excites me. I give him the 'go ahead' look and he begins slowly thrusting in and out of my body, his elbows on either side of my head.

He is so tall that when he pushes all the way into me, my face almost meets the top of his torso. I wrap my arms around his body and welcome him in. Soon my silenced whimpers of pain turn into vocal moans of pleasure as his cock rubs up against some unknown place so tenderly and so sweetly.

My nails digging into the tough, scarred skin on his back urges him faster. His hips rise faster and his manhood slams into my body with stamina. He's breathing heavy as his hands grip my slender waist. I'm moaning with each stroke of pleasure he brings me.

The pain is completely gone, nowhere to be found. The sensation of being so full with his cock inside of me is foreign, but breathtaking. I lay there beneath him, my hand in his hand and his eyes locked on mine.

Like a falcon, he swoops down to capture my lips in a kiss raging with passion and want. He draws my hands up above my head and pins them there with his forearm, rhythmically thrusting into me while keeping his lips locked to mine. With his free hand, he massages my breast, flicking a thumb over my nipple to watch it pebble up in the warm bedroom.

I bury my face in his neck, brushing away his long and glorious silky black hair to kiss his pulse point. I lift my hips to meet his thrusts and the upward position makes his manhood hit a certain place that makes my cry out and shudder in his arms.

I clench around his cock, making him roar in pleasure and throw his head back, slamming into me harder. It feels so good. He promised he would make it feel good, and it most certainly does.

He's mumbling sweet things in my ear, dirty things. "Such a good girl," he mumbles softly, his teeth catching my earlobe and suckling it into his mouth. The quick strokes drag fire through my veins and make my body surge with some unknown force of pleasure.

"Oh harder," I moan. He's taking it gently because of me being his _budurwa_, and his wanting to take it slow to savor the moment, but it's driving me insane. "Please!"

He cannot deny me my request. He is like an animal with the way he forces himself into me so passionately. I try to prop myself up on my elbows to give myself some ground, but with each thrust into me, he brings the air into my lungs then knocks it right back out.

I throw my head back against the pillows and grasp the sheets so tightly until my knuckles turn white. His breathing is getting heavier. "I love you," I whisper to him. "Gods, how I love you."

Jacob's tongue plunges into my mouth, his hands resting on my face. "Ina son ki sosai," he murmurs. "Kar ka taba mantawa." _(I love you so much. Never forget that.)_

As he plunges into me, I feel my climax building. It feels like all the times he's pleasured me, whether it be with his fingers or his lips. But this time the sensation is so much more powerful and strong.

When I come, the sensation of being so full makes me want to see white. I cry out in sheer pleasure. It doesn't take him long to follow. But as I'm coming down from my pleasure-high, the thing that surprises me the most is him.

Sweat drips from his forehead and his muscles fidget. He looks so manly and strong and beautiful, but he's never pulled out of my body. There's a huge possibility that I could get pregnant.

When he finally does pull out, my virginity blood and white ribbons of cum paint my thighs. "Oh 'Bella," he moans, turning onto his back next to me and cupping my face in his hands, bringing my lips to his again.

We kiss passionately before he pulls away, breathing heavily. "You were amazing. Better than any woman I've ever had before."

I know it's probably a lie since he's had many whores before, but I'm not worrying about that now. I nestle my head against his shoulder and press my naked body up against his. His skin is hot and comforting. He places a hand possessively on my bottom, squeezing softly.

My finger lazily traces the patterns of his stomach. "How's your niece?" I ask him.

He shrugs his massive shoulders. "Fine, I suppose. Cries all the time though."

I chuckle softly at his naivety. "She's a child, of course she will cry." He gives me a distasteful look that makes me laugh. "Be kind to her, she will rule the kingdom one day."

He shakes his head. "Not unless I have children…or if my brother has children."

I nod my head, my fingers wrapped in the sheets. "Has one of your whores ever gotten pregnant…from one of your little rendezvous?"

He looks deep in thought for a moment. "No. No one has."

I look and feel a little skeptical. "If you don't pull out when your release comes, someone was bound to get pregnant. What if you have a child and you don't know?"

"I don't," he quickly retorts. "I have always believed that you cannot conceive a child from _fucking _ a woman."

I give him a look. "That's how all children are—"

"No," he cuts me off sharply. "Children are conceived from making love…only making love. That's what my mother told me…that I was conceived of love and love only."

It's a nice thing to think. I shake my head and sigh. "Not all children are conceived of love. Some from rape, some from careless mistakes, and accidents."

He gives me a stern look. "Maybe that's true," he begins, shrugging his big shoulders. "But my children will be conceived of love." Then he gives me this look that renders me speechless for a few seconds. His brown eyes burn into my skin. He gulps, his fingers skirting across the skin of my bare stomach.

I try my best to ignore the action and cock my head to the side. "And do you?"

He looks down at me. "Do I what?"

"Want children," I begin. "Do you want them?"

It's a question I've been wondering for a while. He breathes out. "Of course I do. Someday I want to marry and have children…hopefully many of them." He laughs. "I can kind of see it. Little tan, naked boys running wild around the village, sweet girls clinging to my leg…it's always been there, just waiting to become a reality."

I don't press him on the arising question of whom he'll marry and have children with. I know that there's a chance it might not be me and I don't want to spoil our tender moment. "I think that when the time comes when you do have children…you'll be a great father."

He thanks me with a hot, wet kiss pressed to my temple. "Is that so? Well, I think you'll become a great mother _and_ wife one day."

The only thing is, I don't want to marry someone if it's not him. I know of my silly fantasies, the ones I had with Edward and living out on the countryside and birthing his children…now that fantasy seems like a distant memory even though it was only four months ago.

I can't even comprehend myself with Edward anymore. His freckled face and shiny auburn hair is now fading away into the back of mind as if he had never existed. Jacob has been in my life, for what it seems like forever.

I sigh, preparing to ask the question. "And how have you been holding up?"

At first he doesn't answer, but then takes a long sigh and shrugs his shoulders. "I still miss her. I always will…but having you here takes a lot of that pain away. Makes it somewhat bearable, if at all."

I smile to myself. "I'm glad that I can be the one to take your pain away, then." He smiles rather shyly at me, stroking a fingertip down my cheek.

0o0o0o0o0o

We're having another _shagali_ tonight in mourning/celebration of Snow Lion's departure from earth's soil to the mighty heavens. We are still dressed in our blue and white colors from before.

Outside behind the castle, held near the villages is where we throw our festival. Bright lights and torches light the surroundings in the dark. Blue and white petals are thrown everywhere on the ground. Men and woman come from everywhere to make it in time for our festival.

There is food beyond compare and belief that every villager has taken the time to graciously prepare and donate, and decorations of maidens in white and other wooden sculptures are everywhere.

As for the music, there are drums and funny little stringed instruments and flutes that the musicians are playing in the corner. The shagali music combined with nature's music makes it ever so pleasing to the ear.

Jacob had his men craft a beautiful wooden throne for me, one almost as equal to his in beauty. It's a change since last time we had a shagali. I had to sit on a fancy pillow chained to Jacob's own throne. I wear my topaz necklace around my neck under the white silk, upholding to the promise made earlier in the day. He wears his breechcloth and nothing else, whereas he would usually wear his deerskin pants with them.

Blue and white streaks of paint decorate his long and muscled torso. I was given the privilege of re-painting them on after the marks from earlier got smudged from earlier "activities."

Angelina is dressed in her beautiful light blue dress laced with white ribbons. Drinks of Waterfall has given her a beautiful light blue topaz stone to go with the dress. Her belly protrudes slightly, but he doesn't seem at all ashamed of her. Instead he holds her close to his body, his big hands resting on her stomach at random intervals. He kisses her neck and she smiles.

They are in love, and they are going to have a baby. He will ask her to marry him and she will have his noble little son. She has everything I have ever wanted before in my life.

I look to my right, to Jacob, who sits in his throne, glancing over the dancing crowd of people. He looks bored, and more importantly, upset. I reach over to grasp his hand in mine. He jumps at first, but once he realizes what I'm doing, he squeezes my hand harder and gives me a sweet smile.

"Wine?" I ask him. He nods his head softly. I push myself out of my seat, the junction of my thighs aching from the activity it had experienced earlier. A young lady from the crowds, a girl of about four or five grabs my hand and hugs my hand to her chest.

"Sarauniya! Sarauniya," she exclaims, nuzzling her cheek against my forearm. I look back to Jacob. I've never heard that word in all my time of being here.

"Queen," he replies. "It means queen."

The little girl points to Jacob. "Sarki!"

I look to Jacob. "King," he tells me. "Sarauniya is queen. Sarki is king."

My jaw drops. This little girl thinks that I am Jacob's queen. "Ba," I shake my head, trying to explain to this sweet child. "Ni ba Sarauniyar." _(No, I am not the queen.)_

The little girl points to Jacob again. He smiles in amusement. "Ya—ya son ka. Sarauniya! Kai ne." _(He—he love you. Queen! You are.)_

Suddenly a woman rushes out from the crowds and grabs the little girl's arm. The woman, who seems to be the child's mother, scolds the little girl before shoving her behind her and standing up to face, her face bright red.

"My…my lady. I so sorry for 'dat. My child not gonna bother you no more." The young woman says. When I hear her bad grammar, I realize how good Jacob's common tongue has gotten, and I'm thankful for that. I can be difficult to understand her with her thick accent, but I credit her for trying.

"Please, don't fuss over it. You truly have a sweet child." I smile at her and tap her nose with my finger. The child bursts into a fit of laughter. The woman looks so relieved.

Her hands shake as she brushes the wrinkles of her shirt down. "C-can I get you anyt'in to eat or drink?"

This woman seems honored to talk to me. I'm so confused. Only a month ago, I was still a whore, shamed and ridiculed by everyone. Now that I've committed myself to Jacob, I've had a child come up to me and call me his queen and a woman ask me if there's anything she could get me, like she was obliged to ask me such a thing..

I lick my dry lips and nod my head. "Dances With Wolves and I would like some wine, if you could manage."

The woman's face lights up instantly. "Oh yes! I get you wine. Sit, sit, I bring to you."

I sit down in my chair, completely blown away. Jacob's lounging comfortably in his chair, not seeming like anything's out of the ordinary. I nudge him and ask him if he saw what just happened. He simply replies, "Of course I did. They're not stupid, Bella. They notice when their king has a lady. There's always a chance the lady could be a queen. So they get on her good side before it happens so they'll be favored later."

Me? A queen? I'd never considered such a thing before in my entire life. I look at him with this sudden urge. I'm in front of everyone, so when I do this, everyone will see it.

I stand up and make my way over to his throne. I bend down, ignoring his questioning glance, and pull his neck forwards, crashing his lips onto mine. He pulls away at first, hearing the music and festivity stop. They are on edge after what I've done. The king has never been kissed in public before and such things were reserved for the bedroom.

I know I've made a risky choice. But as I stand there, with Jacob looking in surprise at me, my heart begins to beat faster. What if he doesn't kiss me back? What if he tells me to go back to my seat?

He doesn't.

Instead, he grabs my face in his strong, calloused hands, pulling me into his lap and tilting my head over the edge of the armrest of his throne. And he kisses my lips softly.

The mob of people cheer and clap loudly. It is a first for him, since he has never publicly kissed a woman. Of course his men and his brother have done so, but he is the king and it is in their culture to have the king's sexual life out of the eye of the public.

The young woman and her child return with the wine. As I sit back in my seat, the young woman gives her glass to me, and then nods her head towards Jacob's direction. He does not smile, only nods at her. Her face turns bright red again and she continually nods at us both again.

Then she nudges the child with the second cup of wine over towards Jacob. She smiles and wobbles over to where Jacob sits at his throne. She raises the glass in her shaky hands, wine licking the sides of the cup. "Giya ga sarki." _(Wine for king.)_

At first he only stares at her in interest. The child's smile falls slightly, as she must be feeling intimidated by her king's steely gaze. I nudge his arm. He looks over at me in interest. I nod my head, as if telling him to take the wine and be kind to her.

I know he's not very good with children, only because he doesn't quite know how to act with them. He was always the youngest child in his family so he never had experience. He wants his own children, but needs to learn a little first.

He plasters on a smile when I signal him to and takes the cup. "Na gode sosai," he says to her. The little girl's smile instantly comes back and she runs to her mother in excitement that the king had just spoken to her and smiled at her. _(Thank you very much.)_

Suddenly someone starts to chant in the Quileute language. I realize that it's Three Horses. The drums and flutes play in tune to his chanting. The people around the giant fire in the middle of the shagali move away so Three Horses, with his headdress of jewels, sticks and feathers, can dance around the fire.

One by one, the soldiers of Jacob's army join. First Iron Coyote, then Grey Hawk, then Drinks of Waterfall, White Fire Sun, and Black Bear. They dance around the fire, mimicking Three Horses. I've never seen something so curious as this practice before. I've seen them dance before, but never so ritually in a dance.

In this case, a funeral.

Suddenly, Jacob stands up beside me when the men are all quiet and lets out a loud chant for his sister, walking down from his throne to join all the dancing. The other men let him into their circle proudly.

I've never watched someone so powerful or graceful in my life. His dancing is so spot on. I seem to be in a trance when I watch him dance. I never take my eyes off of him as he lifts his hands to the heavens, a look of sadness in his eyes.

I know he's talking to his sister. I know he's telling her he misses her, and telling the rest of his deceased family members he misses them too. Probably White Fawn too. They all start chanting in unison again, dancing and twirling around the fire while the drums, flutes and stringed instruments play.

When the music stops, the people cheer loudly and Jacob returns to his seat. He doesn't look at me at first, only takes his wine and takes a long swig of it. "That was beautiful," I tell him.

He nods his head in my direction. Women, not whores, but women, come closer to dance around the fire. The music starts up again and they begin to elegantly weave their way in and out of circles, making motions with their hands symbolically.

This culture is so exotic and lovely. I sip my wine while sitting beside Jacob. As I'm watching the dancers, I don't seem to notice the oncoming fight that's raging between two of the peasant men. Didyme is being fought over by two men whose names betray me. I do not know their faces, perhaps because they are not of Jacob's warrior men.

They are fighting wildly with their swords with curved blades, the clang of metal-to-metal echoing throughout the area. This is supposed to be a funeral for Snow Lion, yet there is fighting. I look over to Jacob in shock. He just sits and smiles, satisfied with what's going on.

I desperately look back to the situation. The first man has tripped the second man by using his own foot to trip him and set the man backwards onto his bottom. And before I can call for Jacob to make him stop them both from fighting, the first one plunges his sword into the man's stomach, the curved blade ripping out intestines.

The crowd claps and cheers as the man raises his bloody sword high into the air. He throws the severed piece of intestine into the fire and watches as the flame burns and ignites higher than it had before. Then the first man kneels down to cut off the other man's fairly long braid, staggering over to Jacob and placing the severed hair at his feet.

Then he looks to me, ignoring the horrified look on his face and places the bloody sword at my feet. I don't want the sword. It is _not_ honorable to kill a man. I look over at the dead body and then to Jacob that's nodding to the man.

"Hand me the sword, Tiger Claw." At first I don't hear him because I'm so shocked by what I had just witnessed. He repeats the command, and this time I follow. I reach down and shakily pick up the blood-drenched sword, holding it by the hilt. It's so heavy that I find myself having to stand to fully support its weight.

Blood runs onto my hands and drips onto my white silk dress. I hand the sword to Jacob. The peasant man gets down on his knees. Jacob does the unthinkable. Jacob knights him, makes him one of his warriors.

His name is revealed to be Little Sea, or his commoner's name, Collin. I feel sick to my stomach. As Little Sea stands and has the crowds of people around him cheering for him, I stand from my chair and race into the castle.

I'm in the castle, racing up the stairs when I feel a strong hand on my shoulder. He whips me around and gives me a confused look. "What are you doing?" he hisses at me. "The festival's not over. You need to come back."

I pull myself out of his grasp. "Jacob, I feel _sick_!" I reply, racing to the bath hall where the chamber pots sat. He follows me there while I huddle over an empty chamber pot.

He puts his hand on my shoulder and massages lightly. "Why?"

I look back at him, my face feeling green but fire in my eyes. "Why? I just witnessed the actual gutting of a human being while he was alive at your own sister's funeral. I had to pick up that awful weapon, which might I add, covered me in blood!" I show him my bloodstained hands. He grimaces as some blood drips onto the floors.

I breathe in and out slowly, trying to reign in my temper. "And then you knighted him, like killing somebody was a good thing!"

"It is our culture—"

"Oh stop with that!" I cry. "It is something to kill a man in war. But to kill a man for fun? I don't care if it's your culture, it's still horrid!"

He looks taken aback. "They brought themselves into the fight, knowing the consequences. I make them warriors when they succeed, and if they don't, it's the afterlife for them."

I grip the sides of the chamber pot, blood dripping from my fingers. I don't think I'm going to throw up anymore, but my stomach still isn't right. Jacob hands me a deerskin rag to wipe my bloody hands on. "Thank you," I whisper. Then I look up at him and lick my dry lips. "I can't go back. I've got blood on my dress, I look like I've turned permanently green and my stomach's still not right. You don't have to stay with me. I don't want to ruin your shagali because of this. You can lock me in the room, and I promise I'll stay out of trouble."

He shakes his head and chuckles. "You didn't ruin the shagali. The pity party was boring me anyways. I respect you, Bella. I'll tell my brother that he can run the festival in my place. I'm sure he'll have a hell of a time doing that…sitting in my throne and bringing his whore onto his lap."

I blush at him calling Emilia his whore. He cups my face in his hands. "I can't get rid of you, can I?" I jokingly ask. He laughs heartily before taking my lips in his.

"Not that easily," he replies, his lip curling up into a sexy, yet malevolent smile. He presses his lips close to my ear. "You're my prey, my tigress. _Prey_ should never run from their predator."

I push him back a little until my lips are close to his ear this time. "I'm a tiger. You're a wolf. Think about who's really the predator and who's really the _prey_."

He looks surprised with my answer, but pleased with me as well. "Shall we go back to our room?"

I take the hand he offers and hoist myself up onto my feet, following him down the dark corridor and into our bedroom.

0o0o0o0o

Thanks for tuning in, folks!I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it wasn't as fast as the previous one. Oh well. Love you all so much. Leave me a **review** to tell barbarian Jacob how much you love him. Until the next update!

Courtney xx


	15. Blood

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note: **Big thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. You all are so kind! Don't think for a second, that if I don't reply to your review, that I don't appreciate it. I run a tight schedule with cheerleading, work, and family and it takes a lot of time to write some of you back. I am ETERNALLY grateful for all of the encouragement. You guys totally rock. Sorry for the rather long wait as well. In this chapter you'll find some Game of Thrones elements in it. xx

**Song**: "The Blue Danube" by Johann Strauss was used in the first section in this chapter as Bella's dream song. I kind of seem to be obsessed with this song, and I'm not ashamed in the least! And I'm well aware this song was created in the late 1800's and this story is set, like I said before, in the 13th century. I don't care. I love my Blue Danube.

**Chapter Fifteen: **_Blood_

"No…you have to pick up your chest a little. Puff it out like you're trying to prove a point to someone. Great!" I'm praising him with a smile on my face, clapping my hands like an excited little girl.

Ever since we left the shagali, I've been teaching Jacob a little about my culture, and some of the dances. I told him of the countless balls we've had, the masquerades and the traditional styles of dancing. I told him of the masquerade balls, where people would dress up as characters from stories, wearing extravagant costumes and masks to really portray said character. I told him that the royalty would throw balls regularly, and nobles would sometimes throw them as well. I even told him of a ball my family held.

I step forwards, pressing my hands onto his and then I step right back to where I was. I spin gracefully a few times, with the help of one of his abnormally large fingers. I then lift my skirts a little higher, showing my foot dancing upon the stone floors. I move my hips rather sensually (almost copying the movements I'd seen the other ladies of the harem demonstrate during the shagali). I clap to my right, then to my left, and then I stand there, almost breathless, and wait for him.

He looks amused, thinking that I'd forgotten my own part. I give him a look, telling him with my 'telepathic abilities' to remember that the next part was _his_ and not mine. "Oh." His huge hands wrap around my waist and lift me into the air. He makes me feel weightless as I stretch my arms above my head and tilt my head towards the sky.

Jacob turns in a circle then places me back on my feet. "Your dances are strange," he whispers to me. We circle each other like predators stalking their prey. He remembers the very last part, the one with our hands weaving in and out of each other's like the wind weaves through trees. "I've never done something so queer before."

"I could say the same about your dances," I retort softly, leaping away from him and then circling him again. He captures me and spins me once more on his arm. "But they are beautiful nonetheless."

I pull away from him and step back a little. He waits for my instruction, black slash of an eyebrow quirked upwards while his devious eye burns holes through my skin. "From the beginning?" he asks me.

I quietly nod my head.

"We don't have music, but just…just imagine something in your head. Something very beautiful and inspiring." We start our dance again, weaving in and out of each other. I imagine the most beautiful piece of music beginning to play, blasting inside of my head. When I begin to move, his eyes follow me with frightening accuracy, full russet lips tugged up at the corner.

He never looks away. Every touch, every glance, sends fire throughout my body, spreading like some sort of rare and extremely contagious disease. Something as simple as teaching him to dance the way my people did means so much more with the way he treats it. His eyes, his lips, and his touch all drive me to the cliff of insanity and want. Jacob lifts me into the air; heated hands on the sides of my waist grip me tightly, making me feel like a feather on the passing breeze once again.

And he lowers me slowly down, his hot breath on my breasts and neck as he holds me so close to his heavy body. He holds me above the ground for a moment, our foreheads resting together. He smells like pine forests, mint and _man_. Jacob is like living, breathing sex on legs. He can make a simple dance move, a lift that is meant to be chaste and pure, into something seductive and enticing.

When my toes finally feel the rough surface of the room floor, I let out the breath that I'd been selfishly holding in. He looks me straight in the eye with such a passion and lust that I blush a deep crimson and look away—it's just an instinct.

He breathes out, the muscles in his chest rippling from the action. "Tell me something." His voice rumbles deeply in his chest, sending vibrations through my body. I lick my lips and nod my head. "Do you regret making love to me?"

It's a question so surprising that it renders me speechless for a few seconds. My mouth is open, but Jacob is waiting for an answer. Finally, my words fail me no longer. My chest heaves with the heavy breaths I take. "I will never regret making love to you." His shoulders slump in relief. I shake my head in disbelief. "Why would you ask that?"

He stands his ground at first, and then begins to dance again. I have no choice but to follow his footsteps. We touch hands and he spins me around on his finger. Then we clasp our hands together and he moves me back around the room. "I am a fast learner, no?"

I nod my head and smile. I can tell he's avoiding my question. "Yes, a very fast one indeed." He takes me dancing throughout the whole entire bedroom. "But you still haven't answered my question." I complain to him.

He steps away from me and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was only making sure," he explains to me. Jacob looks rather agitated and probably wishes me to drop the subject. "That's all. That's why I asked you."

I frown at him and place my hands on my hips. "I think that you're—" I'm cut off as a pair of hot lips comes crashing down onto mine. The words I was meaning to say are lost in his passion.

And as he pulls away from our kiss, unscathed but visibly shaken, I finally realize. He wants to make sure I still want him; that he was gentle enough with me to make me want to be with him again, to have a new connection in place of the ones he's lost. He wants me to fill the empty holes his family has left in his heart, and with my talented hand, to stitch them closed with specially made patches from my own heart.

I nod my head at him.

The night is as peaceful as it is long. The shagali drags on while we are in our rooms, stripped nearly naked except for skimpy nightclothes. I wander onto his balcony and listen to the music, gazing out at the darkened night sky, lightening only by the bright moon and twinkling stars. I hadn't noticed the balcony before and I feel at peace with feeling the warm, summer breeze on my skin and hearing the beautiful music a little ways away.

He joins me at my side, saying nothing when I greet him. His long hair tumbles over his shoulders and sways in the breeze. A flickering bug passes my way and I instinctively reach out to catch it. I open my fingers slightly to see the luminous insect glowing in my hand.

I nudge him with my elbow. "Look," I say. I show him the bug and he looks at it with interest. His eyes flash in warning and reaches out to inspect it.

"Let it go," he hisses at me, obviously concerned for my health and well-being. He seems to be repulsed by the creature sitting peacefully inside of my palm. "Don't touch that vile thing."

I heave out a huff of surprised laughter at his sudden reaction to the insect in my hands. "Jacob, calm down." I chide him with a soft smile. "It's only a firefly. Do you know what they are? Have you ever seen one of them?"

He contemplates something inside his mind. "Fire…fly." He repeats the word, looking into my hands at the glowing bug again. "I've seen them out in the fields plenty of times, but never once did I think they were actual…creatures. My people always thought that these glowing little orbs were either pieces of the sun that broke away while it set low beneath the valleys and mountains or souls from those passed onto the afterlife. But it was a taboo to catch one of them."

"Really?" I laugh. I remember the fond memories that I had when I was just a little girl back in Forks. How I would dance around with Angelina and the other little ladies of my house in the darkness of the night. "Where I come from, they are only bugs that serve as fun when caught. I used to take glass jars and catch them, and my friends and I would put them into the jar. We'd keep them in there and watch them as they'd light up and fade, then light up again. They were absolutely brilliant."

Another flickering bug comes whizzing by the side of Jacob's face. He reaches out and captures it in his hands. "Interesting," he murmurs. I let my own firefly go only a moment after, and he follows me. The two bugs fly off together into the night sky, flashing their little lights into the darkness.

Then he turns towards me with a conflicted look in his eye, like he is mentally debating with himself on whether or not to ask me this question. He decides with a long sigh. "Isabella…would you like to see one of my most prized possessions? Something so worshipped that only the king and his men have them?"

The way his describes this mystery possession interests me fully. I nod my head. He leads me out of the room and down his long dark hallway. We travel down three fleets of steps until we meet a little wooden door, where we travel down one winding staircase to the base level of the castle.

There is a little crossing with three pathways branching off of it, the dark corridors illuminated only by torches. He explains that the dungeons are to the right, the private library is straight on ahead and the 'prized possession' room would be left. There is an unlit torch lying against the wall. He takes it, lights it, and then leads me on down the left pathway.

It _is_ a little unnerving being down in the base level of the castle, where I'd never dared venture before. It is dark, cobwebs lining the ceilings and pesky rats crawling through holes in the stone walls. I wonder if Jacob has any prisoners staying in the dungeons right now, and if the person who guards the dungeon room whips and tortures their prisoners.

When I look back, I can see no sign of Jacob in the dark hallway. I can see only the shadows of a torch. I pick up my skirts and rush after him; I would hate to be lost down here with the rats and the spiders. When I finally do catch up to him, I wrap my around his bulky bicep and smile up at him.

He satisfies me with a little quirk to his full lips. When at last we arrive at our destination, he mounts his torch on the wall. And suddenly I see. I gasp and jump nearly a foot in the air. Locked behind giant iron bars are wolves-huge wolves that are nothing like the skinny little wolves that supposedly used to 'terrorize' the villages back at Forks.

The wolves are mostly sleeping or resting, but one instantly pops up at the intrusion. It is a big russet wolf almost as tall as I am. The wolf sees Jacob and sticks its snout through the bars to be pet. He strokes the wolf's nose momentarily before turning back to me. Me, who's still in awe.

"This is _Mayaki_, or Warrior, in your language. He's my wolf and he leads this pack as the alpha. I sometimes take him into battle with me. He is vicious and proves to be an essential asset." Jacob explains to me. Then he points to a sleek female wolf laying in the corner. "That is Mayaki's mate. She used to be Snow Lion's animal. She named her _Fure_…Blossom. Blossom had pups three days ago."

Fure lies on the cold ground with a litter of three pups huddled close to her side. One wolf is gray like his mother, one is brownish-red like her father, and the third is completely white. The third pup has an odd looking mark on his back, and it almost looks like a scar. While Jacob prepares a slice of meat for his own wolf, I look at the pups. Despite his mother's whining, the white pup stalks forward on wobbly legs and joins his father at the bars of the cage.

The russet wolf huffs at him before turning his attention back to Jacob as the alpha wolf's own master throws some raw deer meat through the bars. Mayaki scampers away towards the meat, tearing it to shreds. Fure whines again, inching forward to ask her mate for some for her and her pups.

But the little white wolf pup at the bars doesn't move an inch. The little one's gray eyes seem to draw me in until something possesses me to crouch down to my knees and stick my finger through the bar. The wolf jumps back in shock at first before slowly inching closer and sniffing my finger in curiosity. Then a warm pink tongue flickers out and touches my flesh.

I huff a small breath of laughter as the wolf pup leans his head into my hands lovingly. When I look up, I can see everyone staring at me, even Jacob. All of the wolves are awake and interested by this phenomenon. "There it is," Jacob murmurs with a little quirk of his lips.

I furrow my brows. I pull my hand away and stand up. "What are you talking about?" I ask him. The wolf paws at the bars of the cage, tilting his head to chew at the iron. I can't help but smile at the pup's silly antics.

"The connection. He's yours if you'll have him." Jacob explains to me.

I can't believe that he's giving me one of his 'prized possessions.' I'd seem some of the men use their wolves in raids, letting them tear people apart, but I'd never imagined that I would be the caretaker of one of these vicious beasts.

But the thing is, as I looked at the little wolf, I saw everything but vicious. "You've been so generous towards me," I say. I look up at Jacob's stoic features and smile in appreciation. "I'll have him. Thank you."

"And the name of the pup?" Jacob asks.

"Scar."

0o0o0o0o

The next morning, I'm sitting at Jacob's side in the wagon we're taking into the village. He insisted so strongly that I come with him to see his people that I just gave in to his charm. When we finally arrive in the little village of Sanko, the people rush to greet their king. Jacob's brought along Drinks of Waterfall, Three Horses, and Gray Hawk for extra protection if his back is turned.

I made sure that I looked especially presentable if I were to be shown on the arm of the barbarian king. I had picked out a beautifully colored silk that was like the warm sunset sky; a mixture of strawberry and sweet mango. I wear my topaz around my neck proudly. As I step out onto the grassy ground, the people look at me with interest. Suddenly I find my confidence growing slighter with all of those judging eyes landing on me.

He strokes his finger down my cheek and forces me to look up at him. It's as if he's telling me not to worry about all of the eyes. As he walks through the crowd, leading me, the people begin to bow down to the ground. I'm not sure if they're bowing to me as well, or only to him. The guards travel behind us, their eyes searching the path.

After we walk on ahead, life in Sanko seemingly continues normally on. There are people out on the streets trying to sell me their items, whether they are jewels, clothing and silks, or exotic foods. "Cho-co-lat!" One woman calls. "Try 'de cho-co-lat for free, my lady! It is new, sweet delicacy!"

I stop in interest when the middle-aged woman shows me her pot of a warm brown substance. She nods her head encouragingly at me. She dips a clean spoon into the chocolate and hands it to me. I look at it. It's lumpy and brown and warm. If this is supposed to be a sweet delicacy, I should trust this lady.

I lift the spoon and taste the chocolate. My eyes fly open almost instantly once I realize that said chocolate was not disgusting, but quite the contrary. "This…this is amazing!" I praise her. "Did you come up with this treat yourself?"

When the woman nods her head, I throw my hands into the air in both surprise and satisfaction. I tug Jacob over to where I'm standing and force him to try the _chocolate_. His eyes widen similarly to how mine had and he smiles instantly. "I love it," he states. "Never have I tasted something so great."

I follow him around the little village, exploring the various bazaars. Little children stare and point at me, but it does not faze me. I come to a little fruit bazaar. The seller has exotic fruits lined up on a table for display. He is in the back unloading more crates of the fruit. I'm mesmerized by how shiny and red the apples are.

But as my curiosity gets ahead of me, my finger touches one of the apples and it tumbles off of the table. I watch blankly as it tumbles across the dirt road. The wheels in my brain finally start to turn as I rush after it and snatch it up into my hands. "Got you!" I exclaim.

Suddenly, I hear a loud cry behind me. "Hey!" The man is shaking his fist at me, his face reddened. "A daina! Ba za ka iya sata cewa kaga tuffi!" Before I know it, he's rushing at me with a menacing look in his eyes. _(Stop! You can't steal that apple!)_

He grabs my hand with a force that I've never felt before and shakes me violently. My words come out slurred due to my fright. "Ni ba a…ba ni kuma sata! Kaga tuffa fadi a kashe daga cikin cart da nake kawai—" (I was not…I was not stealing! The apple fell off of the cart and I was only-)

To my surprise, my words are cut off when he backhands me powerfully. I accidentally bite into my cheek on accident, blood dripping from my mouth and over my lips. My skin stings worse than touching boiling water. I fight my tears as he yanks me back up to look at him. "Makaryaci! Datti makaryaci!" he screams. I don't know where Jacob's gone but this is definitely causing a scene. Crowds gather around in shock. _(Liar! Dirty liar!)_

When he forces me to my knees, an act of forceful submission, I push away from him. "Ka san ni waye?" I scream. "Shin, ba ka san cewa ayyukan nuna wadanda mutum fata ga mutuwa?" _(Do you know who I am? Do you know that your actions portray those of a man wishing for death?)_

This obviously enrages him. He shoves me back forcefully until my head hits the ground—hard. "Ban damu da suka kai, karuwa," he begins to circle me like a predator. "Sata daga gare nio shi ne wata babbar kuskure!" _(I do not care who you are, slut. Stealing from me was a very big mistake!)_

"_No_, touching my woman was a very big mistake," a deep, angry voice echoes from behind me. I'm relieved. I know it's him. Three Horses helps me up and pulls me away from where they prepare to fight. "As was calling her a _karuwa_ and blaming her for something she obviously _did not do_."

The man foams at the mouth. He is very ugly with all the anger he holds within his muscular frame. "Why do you trust her? She is a whore from the Common Lands! She could be betraying you at this very moment, telling all your secrets to the men back in _Forks_."

I start to scream back at him in disgust, but Three Horses clamps a hand over my mouth and forces me to relax. Jacob's face is expressionless but in his eyes is a fury burning so bright that one would think he only had fury in his bones instead of love. "You test me, Kicking Bull. It is not very wise of you."

My eyebrows pull together. He knows this man, this angry Kicking Bull? The older man's anger still does not fade, even after he found out that he assaulted the king's _woman. _He laughs humorlessly, throwing his hands up in the air. "You believe the whore over me. Where is your strength? Has the bitch fucked it out of you already?"

I struggle against Three Horses' grip. "How dare you speak of me that way! I will have you killed!" My eyes are filling with fire. I do not know where the words came from, I just vomited them out.

Kicking Bull's eyes glaze over me with sick humor. "You are foreign whore. You do not command Kicking Bull with that mouth. But I will give you something else to do with your mouth!"

The crowd gasps. I am astonished at his persistence. It is like he wants to be killed. "The next time you speak to me in that manner will be the last time you have a tongue," I seethe at him menacingly. "_I give you my word_." I am a little woman, but my fury does not prevail.

Jacob smiles. "She how she is fierce? She is Tiger Claw, and she will command you. The next time you speak suggestively of my woman, will indeed, be the last time you have your tongue."

Kicking Bull does the unexpected, and he spits on Jacob's feet. My king's eyes dilate with his rage but he still manages to keep it cool. "A king who takes orders from his slave-whore is no king at all!" He brings out his weapon, his mighty khopesh sword and points it at Jacob. I gasp and struggle against Three Horses.

The man puts his lips close to my ear while trying to restrain me. "Ya sarki za ta kula da shi," he begins. "Kana bukatar ka damu." _(Our king will take care of him. You need not worry.)_

I trust Three Horses, but the situation looks grim with Kicking Bull's blade pointed at Jacob's exposed chest. When he takes a step forwards, Kicking Bull panics and slashes out at the air with his sword. The blade catches on Jacob's muscled arm, slicing right through the tribal tattoo on his bicep. I gasp in shock; I never thought someone could be so brazen when faced with his or her angry king.

"I will not burn you body and set it afloat upon the Barbarian Sea. No, I will not give you such honor. You will not be buried, nor will you have an inch of privacy in your last filthy, dying moments. The rain will turn to acid and wash away your rotting flesh until you are nothing but bones!" Jacob's eyes are wild with fury. "Maggots will crawl through your heart and eat your unseeing eyes without mercy! You will not see the light of day after I am done mutilating you, you pitiful excuse for a man!"

Drinks of Waterfall is throwing him a sword, and before I know it, Kicking Bull and Dances With Wolves are locked in battle. He dodges many swipes of Kicking Bull's blade, but one clever swipe has my king's sword lying close to my feet and has him on the ground. "I always knew your brother was right for the throne. You are too soft. You cannot kill me, Dances With Wolves."

A devilish look appears in Jacob's steely eyes. "Oh, but I already have." With a sharp kick to Kicking Bull's shin has the bone easily broken and has him tumbling to the ground in agony. Jacob pulls the hidden dagger he had in his bearskin belt and plunges it into Kicking Bull's stomach without any traces of mercy toward the man.

I clasp a hand over my mouth and press my back against Three Horses for support. Jacob crawls on top of Kicking Bull's body and wraps his massive hands around the other man's thick neck. It's safe to say that I've never seen Jacob so angry or so powerful. He is choking Kicking Bull. The older man's legs flail and he coughs up blood due to the stab wound in his stomach. Jacob pulls him by the neck upwards and smashes his head harder against the ground.

"Remember the name!" he screams. "The name of the man who killed you. Dances With Wolves, your almighty king! And remember the name of the woman you died for. _My_ woman, **my** Tiger Claw."

And in one last breath, Kicking Bull's soul rockets out of his body, leaving him lying limply on the sand—just another empty shell. Jacob leans back on his haunches and kicks the dead man away. Blood covers him and he looks completely animalistic. He doesn't even look human. But when he looks at me, I feel some kind of reassurance that the man I grew to love is still in there and is still okay and waiting for me.

Without a word, he scoops me up into his arms and carries me back towards the wagon. The townspeople stare in shock at what had just so brilliantly unfolded in front of them. They prepare to rid the streets of Kicking Bull's dead body and wash the streets with the holy water to rid the village of the reek of death.

He sits me next to him on the wagon and impatiently waits for his men to get into the back of the wagon. Then he slaps the reins down hard on the horses and the wagon missiles towards the capital city, where the great barbarian castle sits. "You're bleeding," I whisper to him, my fingers gently skirting over where the wound spits dark red blood.

Jacob nods his head. "Yes. I'm aware," he murmurs. I turn my head out towards the scenic countryside and the trees and the people on the sides of the Great River stopping to point and stare at us. And I think that we must be quite a sight to see since Jacob is covered in another man's blood.

I exhale slowly, my curly hair whipping about my face as we race on through the trees. "And you killed for me."

He still does not turn to look at me. I think it might be for other reasons than that he's steering the horses and doesn't want to veer off of the road. He draws in a shaky breath. "I would do _anything_ for you."

I believe him now more than ever.

0o0o0o0o

It is almost dark when we get back to the castle. He's opted not to visit the castle medic for his bleeding. Instead he's let it bleed on for almost a half hour, the blood staining his chest. It dries, and new, wet blood drenches his chest again. He's been oddly silent ever since our encounter with Kicking Bird. He sits in his great bearskin chair and stares into the fire before him.

I haven't said anything, but I'm afraid that I'll change that. But as I continue to say nothing, his condition only worsens. "Does it hurt badly?" I ask him softly. My voice seems to startle him over the quite whisper of the wind and soft crackle of the warm fire.

He shrugs his shoulders, causing more blood to drip down his forearm. "Please Bella…don't."

I shake my head and exhale in frustration. "But I don't understand-!" I'm whining like a child now.

"I don't want it cleaned," he repeats a little firmly. "I don't want to keep telling you this, please. Don't make me explain."

The image of the blood rolling down his skin makes me stomach churn unpleasantly. "It will _fester_ and _infect_ if you do not let me treat it properly." My voice is firm and on the outskirts of being angry. I am frustrated. "Do you want to end up dead as well?"

He sighs in an act of what seems like submission. I grab the bandages and wet wipes. I fill a porcelain bowl with water and dip a warm rag into it. Then I press it to his skin. He does not move a muscle, as if it does not cause him pain.

I look up at him. He still does not look at me. "Why won't you look at me?" I whisper to him softly. "It seemed like…what happened today changed you in some way. I don't understand."

He shakes his head slowly, eyes still locked on the fire as if it soothed him. "I do not understand either."

I use some of the liquid-medicine that Alice gave me for wounds once. "This is probably going to sting." I pour the liquid on his wound. He only winces a little at the pain whereas any normal person would have been outright screaming. But he is not normal; he never was and he never will be.

I sigh and wrap a few layers of bandages around his arm. Tiny droplets of blood soak through the white cloth, but I tie it tightly around his ridiculously large muscles.

"I knew him," he managed out. "Ever since I was a child. He was a friend of my brother's and always saw me as unworthy. Whatever I did, whatever I tried to prove, it was never good enough. Today it was just another test…but he pushed me too far and I snapped." He finally looks up at me and sees my split lip and runs his thumb over it. "He hit you and it drove me insane to know that he hurt you.

"Next thing I knew my dagger was in his belly and my hands were around his throat. And I was screaming at him. Screaming at him to remember—remember this day, my name, and remember all the times that he'd belittled me and stomped me into the floor. It was like proving something to him."

He cradles his head in his hands and groans. I throw my arms around him and hold him tight. Right now he just needs to be assured that he's not a beast and it's exactly what I intend to do. "You were protecting me. It was self-defense. He pointed the sword's tip at you first."

He does not cry. I know he will not cry because crying shows weakness and he only showed me his weakness once. I already know that he does not intend to show me it again. He thinks that I need him to be his rock, when the roles have lately been reversed. And here I am again, on another dark and chilly night, holding him in my arms.

"It was not your fault," I say."

"I know," is all he murmurs back. "If anything ever happened to you…I'd die. I can't lose you, Bella. Tell me that I won't lose you."

I gulp and rub my cheek against his. "You won't lose me."

He leans back in his chair and I sit back on my knees. He leans his face into his hands, his pointer finger curled around his lip. "You're the only thing I have left. The only sanity, the only reality. I think that if you were gone, I'd go completely mad."

He takes in shaky breaths. "Hey," I murmur softly. I climb into his lap and he buries his face in my neck, smelling my hair. My scent makes him calmer, as I'd found out. "You won't lose me. I'm here—right here, with you, right now. I'm not going anywhere."

Jacob's warm hands find my backside and he takes a cheek in both of his hands. He firmly presses me to his muscular body. Hard meets soft and he moans into my hair. "Bella, I need you."

"I know." I whisper it back to him, my lips finding his jaw.

He growls and turns my head towards his. He captures my lips, softly moving his against mine. His breathing his heavy as his hands explore and ravage my skin. Jacob's tongue slips through my lips and he encourages me to suck on it. He tastes of mulled wine and it's dizzying. He moans into my mouth, dragging his tongue across my open lips before dipping it inside again.

He moves his head and kisses a trail on my neck, hotter and hotter and more passionate yet. I cradle his head in my hands, feeling as his lips kiss my heated flesh. It feels so good.

"So you do not think me a monster?" he asks between his tender kisses.

I moan when he touches a tender place on my neck, throwing my head back. I decide my answer long before I tell him.

"A man whose hands are not stained with blood and sin has not lived." I tell him. He pulls back to look at me. His steely eyes have turned to soft brown once more, and that calm and loving man is back to me. I smile at him and stroke my palm down his cheek. "You are no monster to me, Dances With Wolves. You will never be."

0o0o0o0o

Thanks for reading this chapter, and sorry again for this taking so long. I hope it was a bit longer than you were used to so it can satisfy some of your hungry appetites for our Dances With Wolves. I'd be really interested to hear what you thought about this chapter in a **review**, and what you'd like to see up next. Until next time, lovelies.

Courtney xx


	16. War

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the kind words on the last chapter. We hit the 500 mark! By the way, I caught the little error last time lol. Just for the record, it was Kicking BULL not Bird. Thanks LahoteLover, who so nicely pointed that one out for me! Also, I'm doing something a little bit different in this chapter. We're going to try out Jacob's point of view for a little. Jacob's point of view will NOT be permanent, but Bella's will be. Also, with the four kingdoms, I'm not going to be geographically correct. It's just where I want the kingdoms to be. AND, the kingdoms are real places in Washington…I just pretty made up everything about them except their names. Thanks, and read on! (:

**Chapter Sixteen: **_War_

After a vigorous round of passionate, intense lovemaking we're lying side by side on his bed. It felt better this time than last time, since I was no longer a virgin when we first started. When he kissed me down there again, my vision went white. Then he drilled himself into me, his lustful and throaty moans echoing in my ears.

He'd whispered sinful things to me, things that I'd never repeat. But his words made my flesh feel ten times hotter than it was. The way his hands perfectly held my breasts and the way his lips felt on my neck…and how amazing it felt to be completely filled to the brim by him as he released his load into my body, having him shudder and whisper sweet things to me over my lips.

I'm lying on his arm and he pulls me closer to his body. We are not married, but I feel like we are. With the way he so valiantly defends me against other men…imprinted on me and claimed me, and how he calls me _his woman_ all makes me feel like I've been taken, and taken for good. He talks so brilliantly of a wife and his future children and I can't help but want to be a part of that fantasy.

He turns his face towards mine and kisses my cheek. "Now you're a fast learner," he murmurs with a hint of humor in his tone. It makes me smile. He always makes me smile.

"Who better to learn from than the king?" I ask, kissing him back on the side of his muscular peck. "You taught me everything I knew. When I came here I was just a _burdurwa_, and you vowed so strongly to change that. You panted after me like a mutt during mating season."

He chuckles because he knows it's true. "Watch that pretty little mouth of yours," he mockingly scolds me. "It got you in enough trouble today." Then he pauses and turns to look at me in bewilderment. "A…a _mutt_? Really, Isabella? Is that how you see your king?"

When I don't say anything, he rolls onto my naked body and digs his fingers into my ribs. A scream of laughter rips through me. "Please, I beg you-!" I'm dying of laughter, my head thrown back as he digs into my sides with his long, nimble fingers. The look of amusement is clear on his face as he sits back a little to refrain from crushing me under his huge, naked body.

My deep, hearty laughter echoes throughout the room. "What do you beg of me?" he asks. His tickling is merciless. He is, after all, the king of the barbarians; mercy is and never was an option.

My voice is seemingly gone, laughter replacing it. I cannot get out a word. I'm gasping, almost like I'm choking. He stops momentarily. "To stop the scandalous venturing with those fingers of yours, you beast!" I gasp out. He laughs, but he does not stop.

I manage to get a hold around his waist with my legs and try my hardest to flip him around. I manage to succeed in making myself the one that holds the upper hand over him and wrap my legs around his neck. His face turns red a little with my creamy white thighs slowly suffocating him. But he doesn't seem to be in distress. In fact, he looks pleased.

Before I can realize that I'm sitting on top of him naked and choking him with my legs, he grabs my bottom in his hands and pushes my most feminine place onto his mouth and gives me a firm swipe of his tongue. My eyes widen and I fall over his head, my arms reaching out to brace me on the pillows.

I try to get up, but his arms have come up around my thighs and he's got me locked in place. The teasing licks, and his hot tongue doing wonders down there is almost more than I can handle. "Jacob! I yield!"

His lips wrap around my clit and he gives a firm suck, shaking his head back and forth quickly as if to say that it wasn't good enough. I'm so close that I can already see the stars in my eyes. "I shall never ever call you a mutt again, I promise you!"

And when he moans against me, my release has never been more powerful. He slaps my naked cheeks as I'm getting off of him and tumbling to the other side of the king-sized bed. "You taste like me," he states. "I would sup on our tastes combined for the rest of my life if I had the choice to."

My face turns bright red as I sit on the edge of his bed. I spot my clothes lying in a pile on the floor in disarray. I push myself to get off the bed and pick up the clothes. I redress in front of him. It seems that my embarrassment of my body has been completely reduced due to his constant reminders that I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever been with…and if my knowledge does not fail me, he's been with a whole lot.

While I'm slipping on my breast cloth, there comes a loud and urgent knock at the door. "Na Sarki," the voice comes. I recognize the voice almost instantly. It is Black Bear. "Mutanen bukatar yin magana da kai kan al'amarin game da sabon yaki fara a arewa!" _(My king, the men need to speak with you about a matter concerning the new war starting in the north!)_

Jacob instantly throws off the covers and ties his breechcloth around his waist, and slips on his deerskin pants. He does not bother with braiding his hair. Once my silks are pinned tightly together, I rush after him. His face is bright red and the distress is obvious on his face.

We rush down the hallways until we reach the 'special' room. The room where they talk about the raids and strategies. I follow him inside only to be given a look by several of the men, including Iron Coyote. "No women allowed inside," he hisses at me, forcing me backwards by puffing out his muscled chest and shoving it into my face. "This information is confidential."

I look at Jacob momentarily. "Go," he whispers. I nod my head, respecting his opinion, and his opinion only. I take my leave, heading down to the harem to see if Angelina is there.

0o0o0o0o

**JACOB**

I sit down at the end of the table and look at the model of the four kingdoms we'd built. It is like a game of four corners. Here we sit, in my great kingdom of La Push (or Barbarian Country as the common folk have a habit of referring to it as) in the very south, protected by a thick forest to the right of our castle, Castle Rock, called the Forest of Thieves and the Jungle of Bones to the left of us. It is where the men dispose of the dead bodies, and the great wolves have a habit of picking at the carcasses there, leaving numerous bones in their tracks. I know the forests like I know the back of my hand.

In the north there is my Tiger Claw's kingdom of Forks. Called the iron kingdom, their fat old king sits his lazy ass upon an iron throne. The most abundant element in Forks is without a doubt their metals. The "Forked Sword" is the most desirable sword in all of the four kingdoms. It has three times the strength of a normal sword, and cuts the three times deeper. The iron kingdom is also fond of using their three-pronged tridents, wielded out of the strongest iron to skewer three men at once.

In the east lies the land of Pateros, where fairly odd customs take place. Protected by the Vibrant Mountains, the people of Pateros are ruled by a _queen _instead of a _king_. The people there have taken to calling it the "Vibrant Queendom" instead of kingdom. They are obsessed with colors, and each noble family would be dressed in all one color. The queen's family favors the greens, and thus they never wear any other color except greens. The noble families would all take on a color, and the peasants who did not have a color of their own would wear a dull colored brown for the rest of their lives if they were lucky enough to marry into a color-wearing family.

In the west lies Seattle, a kingdom revolved completely around the religion of their so-called moon princess and moon prince. They believe that the moon is their rightful ruler (which is complete rubbish) and so everything in the "Moonlit Kingdom" has to do with, of course, the moon. On their flag they have the moon and the stars, and they paint pictures of moons, and wear blue all the time. They are nature centric as well, because of their belief that if mankind ruins the earth, their precious moon gods would come down and destroy us all.

I crack my knuckles and lay my elbows on the table. "Now…" I begin, my tone authorizing and king-like. "What is all this talk of a new war? I thought we just ended one."

For years, we'd been fighting with the "bitch queen" of Pateros because my prized dolt of a brother enjoyed raiding there the most because he liked the jewels and the colors the most out of any kingdoms. We won the war against Pateros and successfully got ourselves a whole new loot of colorful items to decorate the stone palace with.

Iron Coyote steps forward and points to Forks. "In the iron kingdom, King Phillip has married off his daughter, Princess Sera, to the bitch queen's weakling son in Pateros. Queen Amelie has made herself a new ally with King Phillip's kingdom by marrying Titus off to Sera. They are planning to join their forces and attack La Push."

I shrug my shoulders and light my tobacco roll from a candle. Leaning back in my chair, I put it into my mouth and take a long drawl of smoke, letting the rest fall from my open lips. "And we are worried why? We have defeated Pateros before and we can defeat them again."

Drinks of Waterfall shakes his head. "But this time it is Pateros and Forks combined. We've never fought against Forks before. We don't know their fighting technique or what kind of weapons they have. They could be lending their possibly advanced weapons to Pateros."

I lean forward in my chair and rake my eyes over the map and look at the models. "When are they planning to strike? Do you at least know of that?" I look up at my brother just in time to see him nod.

"They need three or four months to prepare with their supplies." Iron Coyote says to me. "Then I can only assume that they'd be attacking. The bitch-queen and the king both have no idea that we have knowledge of their alliance and plans to attack."

I nod my head and stick my cigar back into my mouth. "Good. That's how it should be." I place my hands on the map and place the model ship in the Barbarian Sea. The sea effectively stretches around the Vibrant Mountains, making us virtually invisible to the eye of Pateros until it's too late. "We can send the navy to attack and slow them down. I'm not so worried about Pateros as much as I am Forks. Drinks of Waterfall is right. We do not know what these foreign men are fully capable of, even though we've raided there countless times."

Most of the kingdoms don't have a standing chance against us. We've a population of over 450,000 whereas Forks has around 300,000, Seattle with 250,000 and Pateros with only 200,000. I scratch my chin, ignoring the stubble growing there. When combined, Forks and Seattle would have around 500,000 men, and the gods only know how many soldiers could be taken from that glorious number. This battle would definitely take a toll on us both.

Gray Hawk rubs his temples. "I need you to think of who would know the fighting tactics back at Forks. Either that, or we send someone to spy."

I frown at that suggestion and instantly wave it off. "We look nothing like the people from Forks or Pateros. Someone would get captured or killed. Not worth risking at all," I say. "Because then they'd know we knew of their plan. It is best if we catch them off guard, with their walls down."

"We've abducted the whores from various kingdoms! Rosalie and Alice are from Pateros and Athenodora and Clair are from Seattle." White Fire Sun points out.

Suddenly, Drinks of Waterfall jumps out of his seat. "Angel of the Moon is from Forks!" he exclaims. "She was only a maid, but I'm sure she can help."

As soon as he says something about his pregnant bed thrall, it instantly grabs my attention and draws me back to the only thing that I truly hold dear. Her. "So was Isabella. She was courting a nobleman, I'm sure she'll know more than _Angel_." The men in the room both look at each other in interest. I impatiently slam my fist on the table, shaking the maps and models lying there. "Well don't just stand there, goddamnit, get my woman!"

Three Horses and Black Bear both rush out of the room to fetch Tiger Claw and one of the women from Pateros. They're only gone for a short while before the door bursts open and the two women walk in. I see my woman and instantly I feel my heart light up.

Her beautiful, shiny curls hang down her back, accenting her heart-shaped face. Long black lashes frame pretty doe eyes as she looks around the room. I try not to drool as I see her chew on her full pink lips in nervousness, hugging her arms under her breasts. The nervous action only makes her womanly parts easier for me to see.

Those full, round globes instantly catch my attention. She rocks back and forth slightly on the balls of her feet and I feel like I'm in a trance when I find that I can't rip my eyes away from her bouncing breasts. My eyes travel downwards over the flat plane of her stomach, and to those full, child-bearing hips. I can already feel my cock hardening inside of my pants and pressing against my breechcloth.

I readjust myself in my seat and snap myself out of my trance. I offer her to sit on my lap. Bella looks at my lap hesitantly before going to sit down. Rosalie follows after Three Horses and sits in the seat beside him. "Why am I here?" Bella is the first to ask, for she is the only woman that is daring enough to.

I look at her. "There is war raging. Your kingdom has made an alliance with Pateros through the marriage of Princess Sera to Prince Titus. With their armies joined together, they plan to attack us."

I can see her eyes widen significantly as she gasps. "That's…that's horrible! Why would they…?"

"Probably because they got tired of us stealing their goods and them not being able to do a thing about it," snickers Iron Coyote. I shoot my brother a glare at the same time Bella does. He laughs again.

I turn her face towards mine and kiss her nose. "We have twice, maybe three times as many men as those kingdoms do…alone. But together, they might easily match us. We have a good chance of winning, but we'll have an even better chance if you help us."

Bella's face turns from worry to surprise in only a few seconds. "You wish me…a woman, to help you with the war?" She looks caught in her thoughts.

I nod my head. "You courted Edward, you told me of the man. Did he never speak to you of the wars and their tactics? No strategies?"

She flinches a little when I mention Edward. She thinks he is dead because Iron Coyote killed him in cold blood. To be quite frank, we wouldn't know if we killed someone's lover or brother or father. We don't write down or keep track of those who we kill—those that stand in the way of what we want.

Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. I can tell she's having a mental battle with herself. She is on our side…right? "Well," she begins. "I actually do remember some things. I think they might help you."

Drinks of Waterfall places his elbows onto the table as he leans forward. "Then please, Tiger Claw, do tell us. This could be the factor to help us—the factor that could win the war for us."

Bella takes in a deep breath and nods her head. "I will tell you. My lord Edward spoke gloriously of these pieces of machinery called _cannons._"

I point at Little Sea. "Cannons. Get a piece of papyrus and ink and write that down." The man nods and follows my orders. "Now tell us what the cannons can do, little one."

"The cannons are like long stone tunnels with only one side open; the top side. They sit on a pair of wheels and that's how the men are able to move it. It is incredibly heavy and large. It is able to move in any direction, whether it is east, northeast…south…any way you want. Then there is the object called the cannonball that you shoot out at the enemy. The cannon gets ignited with fire and…off it goes. Quite interesting really." Bella gushes it all out to us, spilling every bean in the bag while Little Sea takes notes on the papyrus.

"Then there is contraption called a catapult. It is used for hurling stones of fireballs out at the enemy, or over tall walls. It is like a tall wooden stick with little bowl attached to the end of it in which you would put your stone. You would wind it back with a rope of some sort and then…let it go. It also sits on a set of wheels for keeping it steady and for easy movement."

I'd never heard of these devices before in my entire life. The way of war was with arrows and spears and sharp metal objects to hurl at people. But she's not finished. "Oh! I remember that Edward said once that the king had ordered to cannonballs to be chained together. They can take out crowds of soldiers, and easily tear down walls. It is certainly a sight to see, and a gruesome one at that."

I lean back in my chair, satisfied with the results. "Little Sea, have you documented the weapons and their uses? What they look like?" I ask him. The young man nods and shows me his notes. I stick my cigar back in my mouth and let smoke fall from my lips. Bella looks back at me, her pretty eyes roaming my half naked body. "I want these devices made. I want every blacksmith, silversmith, every craftsmen to help create these cannons and catapults. It will be done in one month."

The men look around in the room as if they doubt the skills of the craftsmen. Rosalie looks at me from across the table. She blushes and smiles at me, an obvious invitation if I would only accept it. I look away. I will not mount her, for her whorish ways disgust me. She is spoilt goods, having been willingly passed around to the other men. She takes pride in being a whore, unlike Isabella, who fought so strongly for her free will.

Before Isabella, I'd never cared for the feelings of a harem girl. I would mount her like a hound does his bitch and then dispose of her, not caring if she was hurt of if I impregnated her. I had lived up to the name of "Barbarian King" in my younger years, before she arrived. But I find myself to be slowly changing as the days pass by. Every morning I wake up with her fragile body next to mine in the bed, I feel a bit of the blackness of my heart being chipped away by her chisel.

I don't know why Three Horses had insisted upon bringing Rosalie. I already know the tactics of Pateros. Her steamy gaze is only making me sick, and the way her clothes accent her curves and show off her erect nipples makes me want to do some pretty horrible things to her. The beast is still inside of me, gnawing at the cages Bella had put up. He wants to be let out, and he wants to seriously hurt Rosalie.

She fucked Three Horses while my sister was dying. It only makes the hate worse.

I look away. "Take the prints to the craftsmen, post them everywhere. Let the people know of the war and how they must contribute. We will draft every boy and man and teach them how to fight. Brother, you will lead camps and troops and teach said people. Let them know of the consequences of espionage and treason, for I have heads mounted on my walls before and I will do so again."

I can see the fright in Isabella's eyes as I say that. It makes me feel slightly ashamed, but right now I have to be a king to my people and prepare them for the worst-case scenario. I stroke my fingertips down her arm and feel her relax beneath me.

When I look up, I see the men staring at me as if they don't know what to do without my command. "Leave me," I growl. They all scurry out of the room like frightened field mice after seeing a hawk scouring the area. All except for my brother, who is eyeing up my woman like she is the mouse and he is the hawk.

I bare my teeth at him and he backs off, lingering out of the room casually. She gets up off of my lap and looks at me. "I have never liked war," she murmurs softly. "They result in massacres. Blood bathes the street, corpses litter the forests, and the smell of death lingers in the air for weeks."

I too, hate wars. I use my hands to work out a kink in my jaw. It fixes itself with a satisfying 'pop' and she cringes at the sound. "We all die, Isabella. The gods of this world can be merciful, but when your time comes, you must accept that fact. The greatest death a man can know is while in battle, fighting for his country."

"But I don't understand," she whispers to me, clutching my hands in hers. I look away from her face as she draws herself closer. She will never understand the ways of war, but never will anyone. "Why not just make peace with one another?"

This statement draws my eyes back to her face. "Peace? I have never known peace. The only peace I have is when I am with you. If it's war they want, it's war they'll get."

0o0o0o0o

**BELLA**

I claim that I despise war, but yet I still gave away precious information from my kingdom. Where does my loyalty lie? With my brothers and sisters back home, or will the beasts that raided my home and stole me away from my lifestyle? Ask me five months ago what I thought about the barbarians and I would have told you they were a damned race, a merciless species that deserved to burn in the four fires of hell for all the wrong they'd done us and other kingdoms.

Ask me five months ago about what I thought of their king—I would have said that the king of the barbarians would be the devil himself. Ask me today and I will tell you that the king of the barbarians is my lover and I will do anything for him. His kindness has changed me, but the ways of his brooding men still have not changed the minds of the other kingdoms.

The only way to stop the war was if they would stop raiding, but unfortunately that was out of the question. Raiding, stealing and killing are all they know. I feed Scar the piece of meat in my hand and welcome the pup into my lap. The little runt of the litter was mine, and I plan on treating him like an alpha.

I hear footsteps behind me. I look back to see Jacob approaching me. The pup yaps at him before cowering away as his huge body sits beside me in the grass. "I want to thank you for the information you delivered us today. It will help us in ways I never imagined possible."

I smile at him and nod my head. His long hair blows in the breeze, the feathers and beads kissing his skin. He is truly a beautiful sight. My hair is braided, and the crystal headdress I wear is breathtaking. Scar settles in my lap and snuggles his head into the crook of my arm.

I look out at the hills and the trees, staring straight into the Forest of Thieves. Another gust of wind comes along and blows some of the leaves from the trees. I find myself shivering. The summer days have quickly passed and we are already halfway into the autumn season. He notices me shivering and sheds his animal fur cloak and puts it around my shoulders.

The fur instantly warms me and I sigh. I move my body closer to his and rest my head on his shoulders. "Thank you." I whisper. Another gust of chilly wind blows and I find myself shivering and huddling against Jacob even more. "Are you not cold?"

He shakes his head. "I run a hot body temperature. It's in my genes." It's true, at least. As I'm huddling close to him, I'm warming up with each passing second. Suddenly, Scar's head perks up and he darts off of my lap.

"Scar!" I cry out, making a move to run after him. Jacob stops me and I watch as the wolf pup goes running up the hill in pursuit of something I can't see. "He's running away," I tell Jacob.

Jacob sighs and looks down at me. "He's coming back. He will always come back. Have patience with him." Moments later, Scar returns, just as Jacob had said. But what he carries in his mouth interests me more.

As the pup nears me, I see the lifeless hare lying in his jaws. "He caught a hare," I whisper. Scar drops the dead animal at my feet. I cringe. Jacob takes it and pats the wolf on his head. "I'll give this to the cooks tonight. You can eat it in your stew."

I make a face. "I'm not so sure I want to."

He laughs and gets up. "Come on. I may not be cold, but the wind is really picking up now. That cloak will only do you good for so long." I pick up Scar in my arms and follow him inside Castle Rock.

Another gust of wind blows through the trees and nearly snatches the fur cloak right off of my back. I turn and look back towards the trees. They whisper of things unbeknownst to man, and it makes me uneasy. I chew my chapped lips before turning back around.

Winter is coming. _War_ is coming.

0o0o0o0o

Thanks for reading. I'm hoping that you guys enjoyed this chapter. I really loved reading all of those kind **reviews**. A special thanks to Nayeli Tatanka for reading and reviewing every chapter. I'd love to hear what you think and/or what you'd like to see more of. How was Jacob's POV? What did you think of the raging war? Feedback truly does count. Thanks so much, you all are so lovely.

Courtney xx


	17. Truth

Sinful Seduction

**Author's Note**: Last chapter was about the war, and I pretty much heard from most of my reviewers about what they thought. A song I've been listening to while writing the previous chapter and this chapter was "The Princess Pleads for Wallace's Life" from James Horner's Braveheart soundtrack. It's a great piece. The story I will be using is a real Quileute legend. We are going to try a new POV today as well.

**Chapter 17**: _Truth_

Since autumn has come at last, the daylight hours are shorter and night is longer and colder. The sky is almost completely dark when the cooks have the dinner finished. Jacob stayed true to his word, and put the special rabbit meat in his soup, and in mine. I've never tasted a better stew.

The servants have lit the giant hearth at the end of the table, closest to Jacob's seat, in order to keep the great stone castle warm. The people sitting at the table talk rather quietly today. Perhaps it is because they are tired; the lighting almost lulls me to sleep, when in truth it could only be maybe six or seven o' clock outside.

I gave Jacob his cloak back and dressed more appropriate for the heating conditions in the castle. Some of the maids had come in and replaced the clothes more suited for summer with the ones more suited for the autumn and winter months. The clothes are mostly animal skins and soft furs instead of beautifully colored and festive silks.

I lift the spoon to my lips again and slurp down the stew as the fire warms my chilled skin. Angelina sits next to me, keeping her head down as she eats her loaf of bread. Her belly protrudes more and more, almost hitting the edge of the table. I touch the side of her arm, causing her to jump slightly before looking up at me. That warm smile I used to know so well comes flooding back onto her face.

"How are you?" I whisper to her over the soft chatter of the men and women at the table. "I feel like we've not spoken to each other in some time."

She shrugs her shoulders before reaching out for her wine glass. "I've been feeling all right except for the occasional fits of sickness and retching in the morn."

I play with the vegetables in my stew by prodding them with the tip of my metal spoon. My curls fall out of my bun and into my eyes when I lean forwards, slouching my shoulders. "Embry…what does he say of the child?" I question her. "Is he still rather nonchalant, or does he…?"

Angelina looks up at me through the curtain of satin chocolate hair and smiles tenderly at me. "He is no longer nonchalant. He seems…excited about this. Isabella, you see…he says he finds no use for me anymore as a harem girl."

My face pales as I swallow a bit of carrot. _Oh no_. This was exactly what I didn't want to happen. He is going to throw her away and just take the child! I take a deep breath before replying. "I see…then what use does he have for you?"

She takes a sip of her wine, leaning back in her chair. "He says he finds no use for me anymore as a harem girl because he really prefers having a wife. Someone who will provide him with…love and loyalty and children. Isabella, he's asked me if I'd be his wife."

I look at Drinks of Waterfall from across the table, chatting with Three Horses, Jacob and Gray Hawk. I'm rather relieved that he is not throwing her away, and a mysteriously large weight has been seemingly lifted from my delicate shoulders. He slams his fist down on the table, demanding for a taste of the rabbit stew that sits near Jacob as they are the leftovers from what I could not eat. "He _asked_ you?"

Angelina giggles a little. "Well, not asked, really. It was more like demanding I'd be his wife, but I was more than happy to say yes. He is the love of my life. I've never felt like this before." She takes a bite out of her bread. "It's rather rare to have a man marry his harem girl, but Embry's decided that I'm clean because I was a virgin when he first mounted me. It's rare, but not completely nonexistent."

I pick up my spoon and begin eating again. Looking at Jacob from where I sit, I can feel something odd electrocute my heart with powerful volts. He smiles, the slight dimples in his cheeks becoming more prominent with the wider his grin gets. Those white teeth, the deep, handsome dimple in his chin, and his hearty masculine laughter all make me want to melt where I sit.

I wonder why he has not asked for my hand after making love to me, taking my virginity, and proving his undeniable love for me in many different ways. Am I truly wife material to him, or am I just a loyal companion he takes pride in dressing up and fucking? I admit to myself that I'm not ready to find the truth in that question just yet.

The dim firelight in the room barely lights the table as the night falls darker and darker yet. I lean back in my seat and pull the wolf fur coat tighter around my arms. The deerskin dress that I wear is somewhat warm, but it could be warmer yet.

I hold my wine in my hand and take a sip. Angelina leans back with me. Drinks of Waterfall is a kind man though his appearance puts one off. He catches sight of his soon-to-be wife and smiles warmly at her. Jacob pushes his bowl away from him as he finishes his stew. I too am no longer hungry. I look at him expectantly, but he only stays in his seat.

"I have to discuss some things with the men before I retire to the chambers," he says to me. I'm a little shocked but I know that the war is most important right now. "You may roam the halls for a little, but stay out of trouble. I won't be able to rescue you this time."

When he winks at me, I know he means well. I smile brightly back at him before brushing some crumbs off of my skirt and standing up. Just as I am about to request that Angelina come with me, Drinks of Waterfall orders her to stay with him. I sigh, scratch the idea, and wander off into the chilly hallways.

There are many places in this castle that I've never ventured through. I decide I will leave the dark, and cold base level to the morning times and explore the upstairs, where our chambers are.

I climb the flight of stairs that leads to our corridor, passing the harem room to the right. Alice is working away at her plants and mixing things in little pots, Rosalie is asleep, Athenodora is trying to knit herself a new blanket, and Emilia is reading a book. Alice catches sight of me and gives me a little wave before turning back to her concoction.

I wander further down the hallway, into the deep dark corridors. I do not know what becomes of things there, and I'm not willing to find out. The wind screams as it whips around the castle walls, causing some of the floorboards to creak. My feet, which are only protected by a thin layer of deerskin, feel like blocks of ice.

Torches line the stonewalls, illuminating the ground before me, but doing very little to keep warmth. I feel like I should be afraid but to my surprise, I'm very calm. I clutch at my arms and pull the fur cloak tighter. At the end of the hallway, I see two great doors. They are dusty and they look like they have not been touched in millennia.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I stalk forward to turn the golden knobs of the door. They give way and the door pushes open with a terrifyingly loud creak. But what the two doors hide is so much more amazing.

It is a _library_. Books line the walls, and a great swirling staircase leads up to the second floor of it. Two large windows let the moonlight in as the torches do not lead on into the library. I shut one door behind me, leaving the other open in case the doors were to lock behind me.

The place is huge and mysterious. My people had called the barbarians an unintelligent race with no interest whatsoever in edification; an unclean, uneducated species. But judging by the books and paintings hung about the walls, these people do not live up to the stereotypes from Forks.

My fingers scrape across the spines of the books, a thick layer of dust coming off onto my skin. These books and parchment scrolls and paintings haven't been touched in years. I wonder why no one's been in here for such a long time. I wonder why it's been sealed off in the dark corner of an even longer and darker corridor.

I pull one of the books off of the shelves and look at the title. It is a very old book, with writing barely legible. I must test my skills of reading Quileute. "The Origins" is what the title says. I open to the first page and begin to read.

_It happened long ago that Q'waeti journeyed all over the land setting the people aright and instructing the people that would come in the future how they should act. Q'waeti instructed the people how to build houses. One day Q'waeti came upon Beaver. Beaver was sharpening his stone knife and Beaver was very stingy. Q'waeti asked what Beaver was doing, whereupon Beaver said: "I am sharpening my knife in order to kill Q'waeti." Then Q'waeti took what Beaver was sharpening and stuck it on Beaver's tail. Then he said: "You shall always have this stuck to your tail, and live in the water. You will just slap the water with your tail and dive when the people come."_

_Then one day he came upon Deer. Deer was sharpening his shell knife, thereupon Q'waeti asked Deer what he was sharpening it for. Whereupon Deer said: "I am going to kill Q'waeti." Then Q'waeti seized the shell that Deer was sharpening and stuck it on Deer's ears. He said: "When you see people you shall run frightened and stop, and look back." Then Q'waeti went on his way._

_Not long afterward he reached Q'wayi't'soxk'a River. But he did not find any people. Then Q'waeti spit on his hands and rubbed them. Doing this he rubbed off the human dead skin into the water. Thereupon many people appeared. Then Q'waeti said to the people whom he had made: "You shall dwell here," said he. "Your name shall be Queets."_

_Then Q'waeti reached the Hoh people. He saw that these people walked on their hands carrying their smelt nets between their legs. At that time all the Hoh people walked on their hands. They were called the Upside Down people. Since that time the Upside Down people were known as the first people who had existed. Then Q'waeti turned right side up the ones who walked on their hands. "You shall use your feet to walk," said Q'waeti to the former Upside Down people. "Go and fish smelt. You shall catch much fish when you fish smelt." Ever since then there is much smelt at Hoh._

_Then Q'waeti went on and reached the Quileute land. He saw two wolves. There were no people here. Then Q'waeti transformed the wolves into people. Then he instructed the people saying: "The common man will have only one wife. Only a chief may have four or more wives. For this reason you Quileute shall be brave because you come from wolves," said Q'waeti. "In every manner you shall be strong."_

I close the book and pull out a different book. It is red in color and the ink is thick and blue. "The Child Eater" is the title. I lean against the bookshelf and open it up.

_Here lived once a big woman named Dask'iya. She was an evil woman who stole innocent children from their loving families and takes them to Yaq'ilis creek (Dry River in barbarian country). She gathers the children together by the river in a cave. Here, Dask'iya would cook the children. She built a large fire on stones, and tended to it with rocks and sticks she found in the forest. Dask'iya would broil the children on her special fire. But before Dask'iya would broil them, she would put gum into their eyes so that they could not see anything._

_One day she stole many children and took them out to the creek. Then she heated the stones in which she was going to use to broil the children and feast upon them. The children were standing around the fire with the gum covering their eyes, cowering in fear. Many nightmares had come to them about the Child Eater and now it was really happening to them. One older girl, afraid but daring, warmed her hands in order to melt the gum that was stuck to her eyes while Dask'iya danced and sang around the fire. "The fire is getting hot," she sang merrily. "The rocks are almost ready!"_

_The young girl finally melted the gum and opened her eyes. Dask'iya hadn't noticed the little girl and continued on singing and dancing around the fire. When Dask'iya was in front of the little girl, she pushed Dask'iya into the fire. The little girl watched as Dask'iya burned quickly because there was nothing but gum in the fire, and listened to the agonizing screams of the woman_

_After Dask'iya burned completely, the girl warmed her shaking hands once more and melted the gum off of all of the other children's' eyes. All of the boys and girls opened their eyes again and ran back home to tell the story of the little girl's triumph in killing the Child Eater._

I slam the book shut when I hear footsteps coming closer towards me. Suddenly I feel a strong hand on my arm, yanking me upwards. "What do you think you're doing?" I don't recognize his voice as Jacob's. I'm terrified and afraid.

When I look into the eyes of the person that had attacked me, I see that it is Iron Coyote. When he notices the terrified expression on my face, he laughs evilly. I don't say anything; I'm still in shock.

"Didn't the king tell you not to come into the private family library?" he hisses at me, his black eyes narrowing.

I push away from him, getting his filthy hands off of my flesh. "Don't touch me, beast," I hiss at him. "What are _you_ doing up here?"

Amusement mixed with anger flash in his eyes. "I could ask you the _same exact thing_."

Iron Coyote was supposed to be at the meeting with Jacob. After all, he is one of Jacob's men. I try to leave, but he pushes me against one of the bookshelves and pins my arms above my head. "Let me go!" I scream at him.

He sighs and tilts his head, as if contemplating whether or not he should let me go. "Hmm, let me think. No!" He laughs when I growl at him. "So, whose side are you really on, Tiger Claw?"

When his face draws closer to mine, I struggle more. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

He's so close to me that I can feel his lips turn upwards into a smile on my skin. "I am afraid not."

I decide not to provoke him. He's got the upper hand on me and Jacob can't protect me while he's at the other end of the castle. "I am on your side. Why do you think I gave you the information about Forks if I was not?"

He chuckles slow and deep. "Because quite frankly, little one, I don't trust you."

I almost want to laugh. _He _doesn't trust _me. _This has to be a joke. "Fuck you." I tell him. I've never been one to curse, but this time my feelings just cried out for some form of expression.

He smiles wide, the sides of his cheeks pulling up greatly. "Maybe I'll let you if you behave and be a good little girl." Then he thrusts his pelvis against my core. I can't help myself when I begin to scream and beat at him with my wrists.

Iron Coyote wrestles me back towards the bookcase again. "You bastard," I hiss at him. "You can rot in hell for all I care!"

He laughs and thrusts himself against me one more time. "Then you're coming with me, _darling Bella_. If I find out that you're a goddamned spy or selling us out, I will _personally_ end you, despite the pleas of my brother." The look on my face makes him throw his head back and laugh again. That's when I find my perfect opportunity to hurt him.

My fist darts out and hits that long stretch of neck muscles, causing him to go down in an instant. My blow knocks the breath out of his body. He writhes on the floor, trying desperately to suck in some air. My eyes blaze with fury as I see him there flopping around like a fish. "You…*cough* _kariya_!" he chokes out.

He's trying to get up and it finally occurs to me that I should probably run. At least now that I know I didn't kill him. I turn on my heel and dart down the hall, my cloak flying off in the process. I don't have time to stop and turn and grab it, since Iron Coyote's hot on my heels.

I turn a corner and hide behind a little divot in the wall, watching as he darts down the hall past me, muttering curses along the way. I can protect myself without Jacob's help…at least this time, I could. Once Iron Coyote is out of sight, I creep back to get my cloak and then scurry back to my room.

0o0o0o0o

Since I'd been able to escape from Iron Coyote, I've been feeling a little bit more confident about my keeping. Jacob doesn't come back until real late, when it's darker than dark outside and awfully cold. I'm huddled by the fire, trying to keep warm while drinking a cup of warm tea.

He sits on his chair and reaches out to touch my head. "How did you fare without me?" he asks. I shrug my shoulders and take another sip.

"Fine." That's all I choose to say. I don't want to say anything about his brother and I because I'm afraid he'll feel burdened by me and will never let me roam the halls alone again because of the nagging fear of his brother coming to claim me. I know that I can protect myself.

He shrugs off his animal skin pants and shirt. "And what did you explore tonight?" he asks me. His clothes land near my person as he strips down into something more comfortable.

Iron Coyote had said it was a private library and I don't know if Jacob will become angry with me for venturing there. Yet again, he hadn't told me it was off-limits to me. "A library," I finally say. "I read about some old Quileute legends and one about a vicious child-eater. I forget her name…I believe it starts with a _D, _though."

His brows raise and the corner of his lips juts up. "Dask'iya?" he questions.

I nod my head. "Yes, that's it."

"My father used to read me those stories when I was a young boy," he whispers, reaching for a glass of wine. "He said that if I misbehaved or failed to please his wishes, Dask'iya would come after me and boil the flesh from my bones."

I make a face at him. "That's a horrid threat."

He laughs a little. "Yes, I suppose. But it made me work much harder." He pauses, seeing the distressed look on my face. "Er…Isabella?"

"Yes?"

"You are…on _our_ side, correct?"

I sigh. "By _our_ side you mean _your_ side, don't you?" I look up at him. He looks a little shocked but interested in what I have to say. "If I am to be your mistress, I have no choice in sides. But if I am to be your love, then I must choose sides based upon what my heart tells me I should do."

Jacob swallows thickly and looks at me in wonder. "And…what does your heart tell you that you should do?"

I tear my eyes away from the fire and look back at him in the seat that he sits upon. "My heart tells me that I should choose my love."

"And you love me?"

"Of course I love you." I reply with a smile. I kiss his hand when he reaches out to touch me again.

0o0o0o0o

**EDWARD**

I can't help it. I still love her. The last time ever I saw her face was days before the barbarians struck my lover's village and I rode out of town to attend to some businesses with King Phillip. My father Carlisle had always been close friends with the king, and before his death, I was merely looked upon as an "unworthy." But now since I am the heir to all of my father's riches, the king calls upon me regularly to help him with certain matters.

From time to time I find myself still thinking of her beautiful freckled face, wild curls framing a heart-shaped face and big, pretty doe eyes. No woman in the whole entire kingdom could have matched her beauty. The last sighting of my precious Isabella was told by a house servant. He said that two barbarian warriors were carrying off my Isabella and one of the housemaids into the forest.

And that was entirely five months ago.

So I went to King Phillip and demanded part of his army come help land an attack on the La Push barbarians so I could win back my woman. He denied me at first, but I thought up a different strategy. I told him of how the barbarians harbored the Silvertongue charm, the one that could help us decipher the Book of Azazel.

The Book of Azazel—everyone knows the story. It is the book with a mysterious unknown language that can only be deciphered with the help of the Silvertongue. Only then would King Phillip…or _me_…gain world domination.

If I gained world domination, I would snatch Isabella out of the thieving barbarian's greasy mitts and then spit in his face. I would imprison every single barbarian and treat them as slaves, making them work in fields and whipping them whenever I fancied to. I would make them pay for all of the destruction and pain that damned race has caused.

When I finally convinced King Phillip of these strategies, he gave his daughter, Princess Sera, to the neighboring kingdom (or queendom) of Pateros. The sickly son of the queen, Prince Titus would marry Princess Sera and form an alliance. Then, with our combined armies, we would attack La Push and defeat them.

We have artillery that they have never seen before—cannons and catapults and our famous three pronged sword. We have our champion fighter, a real-life giant named Brom who can snap the necks of men like a child can pick grass from the dirt. Their arrows, spears and torches of fire will do them no good when they are fighting this war.

I kick another log into the fire to keep it going. The night grows colder and more bitter as winter draws near. "Edward," my young sister Cordelia Cullen speaks. "Why do you keep the windows open? You will catch cold and wither like a flower shrouded in darkness."

She shuts them and draws the curtains over them. She lets out a distressed sigh and rubs her arms. "I shan't catch cold, sweet sister," I whisper. "Hearing the whipping wind whistle delicately through the trees reminds me of her voice."

Cordelia looks at me momentarily before groaning and joining me on the long couch. "Why do you still think of the wench, brother?" she asks me. "If barbarians carried her off then she is either dead, or being mounted like a hound does his bitch at this very moment."

I cringe, finding that I don't like how Cordelia says such things. "I don't want to hear those words come out of your mouth ever again," I growl at her. "Isabella is alive and she is well. She has promised herself to me."

My sister laughs humorlessly. "Do you still think she has kept her promise?"

I don't know what to say. My mouth hangs slack until I realize that I'm doing so and shut it. "Of course I think she kept her—"

"Even with all of those men there? They must have already raped her, brother. They keep those women and slaves there just for the purpose of mounting them." Cordelia says matter-of-factly.

I refuse to believe that all my hard work has gone to waste just because my sister believes that my one true love is a whore and would not fight to keep her virtue for me. _**"She has kept her promise!" **_I boom at her, fed up by all of the negativity.

Cordelia jumps a little, her beautiful red hair falling into her eyes. "And what if she hasn't?"

My fists clench at my sides. "I will drive my dagger through the man that has taken it from her. I will watch as his eyes scream of death and blood bubbles from his unyielding lips. Yes, that is what I shall do." I see Cordelia's eyes shining with mirth and amusement. It bothers me. Everything she says and does bothers me tonight. "Get _out_." I say to her.

She looks surprised., but she still hasn't moved an inch from where she was sitting. "Oh Edward, you know I was only trying to—"

I cock my head and look at her like she is a dog with three heads. "Are you _daft_, woman? Or are you just stupid? I said get _out_!"

Cordelia huffs and picks up her skirt. She pompously points her nose towards the sky and rushes past me. "Well I'm quite sorry that you can't handle the truth when it's laid out before you as clear as day!"

0o0o0o0o

Thank you for reading. Review if you like. (:

Courtney xx


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